presented
to
Xibrarp
of
Tflniversit? College
UlnfpersitE of Toronto
bs
professor H If ret) IBafter
15, 1941
E NQU I RY
CONCERNING
POLITICAL JUSTICE
AND
ITS INFLUENCE
ON
MORALS AND HAPPINESS.
BY WILLIAM GODWIN.
THE FOURTH EDITION.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
TEotrtfon:
J. WATSON, 5, PAUL'S ALLEY, PATERNOSTER ROW,
1842.
v/,2
^ftlvACp^
MAR 3 01966
1062483
CONTENTS OF VOL. II. V
Pac.
CHAP. II.
Of Religious Establishments 112
CHAP. III.
Of the Suppression of Erroneous Opinions in Religion and
Government 115
CHAP. IV.
Of Tests 121
CHAP. V.
Of Oaths 125
CHAP. VI.
Of Libels 128
CHAP. VII.
Of Constitutions 135
CHAP. VIII.
Of National Education 142
CHAP. IX.
Of Pensions and Salaries 146
CHAP. X.
Of the Modes of Deciding a Question on the Part of the
Community 151
BOOK VII.
OF CRIMES AND PUNISHMENTS.
CHAP. I.
Limitations of the Doctrine of Punishment which Result
from the Principles of Morality 154
CHAP. II.
General Disadvantages of Punishment 157
CHAP. III.
Of the Purposes of Punishment 161
CHAP. IV.
Of the Application- of Punishment 166
CHAP. v.
Of Punishment Considered as a Temporary Expedient 172
CHAP. VI.
Scale of Punishment. . 181
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
Page.
CHAP. vil.
Of Evidence j 9
CHAP. VIII.
Of Law 190
CHAP. IX.
Of Pardons . 199
BOOK VIII.
OF PROPERTY.
CHAP. I.
Preliminary Observations 202
CHAP. II.
Principles of Property 207
CHAP. III.
Benefits Attendant on a System of Equality 218
CHAP. IV.
Objection to this System from the Frailty of the Human
Mind 225
CHAP. V.
Objection to this System from the Question of Permanence . 228
CHAP. VI.
Objection to this System from the Allurements of Sloth 230
CHAP. VII.
Objection to this System from the Benefits of Luxury 230
CHAP. VIII.
Objection to this System from the Inflexibility of its Re-
strictions 238
Appendix. Of Co-operation, Cohabitation and Marriage . . 239
CHAP. IX.
Objection to this System from the Principle of Population . 247
Appendix. Of Health and the Prolongation of Human Life 249
CHAP. x.
Reflections 254
ENQUIRY
CONCERNING
POLITICAL JUSTICE.
BOOK V.
OF LEGISLATIVE AND EXECUTIVE POWER.
CHAP. I.
INTRODUCTION.
Retrospect of principles already established. Distribution of the re*
maining subjects. Subject of' the present book. Forms of govern-
ment. Method of examination to be adopted.
IN the preceding divisions of this work the ground has been suf-
ficiently cleared, to enable us to proceed, with considerable
explicitness and satisfaction, to the practical detail : in other
words, to attempt the tracing out that application of the laws of
general justice, which may best conduce to the gradual improve-
ment of mankind.
It has appeared, that an enquiry concerning the principles and
conduct of social intercourse is the most important topic upon
which the mind of man can be exercised ;* that, upon these
principles, well or ill conceived, and the manner in which they
are administered, the vices and virtues of individuals depend ;f
that political institution, to be good, must have constant relation,
to the rules of immutable justice ; J and that those rules, uniform
in their nature, are equally applicable to the whole human race.
The different topics of political institution cannot perhaps be
more perspicuously distributed, than imder the four following
heads : provisions for general administration ; provisions for the
intellectual and moral improvement of individuals ; provisions for
the administration of criminal justice ; and provisions for the
regulation of property. Under each of these heads it will be our
business, in proportion as we adhere to the great and comprehen-
* Book T. + Book IT., Chap. II.
t Book I., Chap. VI. VII. { Book ILL, Chap. VII.
1C. VOL. II. B
2 OF LEGISLATIVE AND
sive principles already established, rather to clear away abuses,
than to recommend further and more precise regulations, rather
to simplify, than to complicate. Above all, we should not forget
that government is, abstractedly taken, an evil, an usurpation
upon the private judgment and individual conscience of man-
kind ; * and that, however we may be obliged to admit it as a
necessary evil for the present, it behoves us, as the friends of rea-
son and the human species, to admit as little of it as possible, and
carefully to observe, whether, in consequence of the gradual illu-
mination of the human mind, that little may not hereafter be
diminished.
And first we are to consider the different provisions that may be
made for general administration ; including, under the phrase
general administration, all that shall be found necessary, of what
has usually been denominated, legislative and executive power.
Legislation has already appeared to be a term not applicable to
human society.f Men cannot do more than declare and inter-
pret law ; nor can there be an authority so paramount, as to have
the prerogative of making that to be law, which abstract and im-
mutable justice had not made to be law previously to that inter-
position. But it might, notwithstanding this, be found necessary,
that there should be an authority empowered to declare those
general principles, by which the equity of the community will be
regulated, in particular cases upon which it may be compelled to
decide. The question concerning the reality and extent of this
necessity, it is proper to reserve for after consideration. J Execu-
tive power consists of two very distinct parts r general delibera-
tions relative to particular emergencies, which, so far as
practicability is concerned, may be exercised either by one indi-
vidual or a body of individuals, such as peace and war, taxation,
and the selection of proper periods for convoking deliberative
assemblies : and particular functions, such as those of financial
detail, or minute superintendence, which cannot be exercised
unless by one or a small number of persons.
In reviewing these several branches of authority, and con-
sidering the persons to whom they may be most properly confided,
we cannot perhaps do better, than adopt the ordinary distribution
of forms of government, into monarchy, aristocracy, and de-
mocracy. Under each of these heads we may enquire into the
merits of their respective principles, first absolutely, and upon the
hypothesis of their standing singly for the whole administration;
and secondly, in a limited view, upon the supposition of their
constituting one branch only of the system of government. It is
usually alike incident to them all, to confide the minuter branches
of executive detail to inferior agents.
* Book II.
t Book TIL, Chap. V. * Book VII., Chap. VIII.
\ I state the article of taxation as a branch of executive government, since
it is not, like law or the declaration of law, a promulgating of some general
principle, but is a temporary regulation for some particular emergence.
EXECUTIVE POWER. 3
One thing more it is necessary to premise. The merits of each
of the three heads I have enumerated, are to be considered nega-
tively. The corporate duties of mankind, are the result of their
irregularities and follies in their individual capacity. If they had
no imperfection, or if men were so constituted, as to be sufficiently,
and sufficiently early, corrected by persuasion alone, society
would cease from its functions. Of consequence, of the three
forms of government, and their compositions, that is the best,
which shall least impede the activity and application of our intel-
lectual powers. It was in the recollection of this truth that I
have preferred the term political institution to that of government,
the former appearing to be sufficiently expressive of that relative
form, whatever it be, into which individuals would fall, when
there was no need of force to direct them into their proper chan-
nel, and were no refractory members to correct.
CHAP. II.
OF EDUCATION, THE EDUCATION OP A PRINCE.
Nature of monarchy delineated. School of adversity. Tendency of
superfluity to inspire effeminacy to deprive us of the benefit of ex-
verience illustrated in the case of princes. Manner in which they
are addressed. Inefficacy of the instruction bestowed upon them.
FIRST then of monarchy ; and we will first suppose the succession
to the monarchy to be hereditary. It this case we have the ad-
ditional advantage, of considering this distinguished mortal, who
is thus set over the heads of the rest of his species, from the
period of his birth.
The abstract idea of a king, is of an extremely momentous and
extraordinary nature ; and, though the idea has, by the accident
of education, been rendered familiar to us from our infancy, yet
perhaps the majority of readers can recollect the period, when it
struck them with astonishment, and confounded their powers of
apprehension. It being sufficiently evident, that some species of
government was necessary, and that individuals must concede a
part of that sacred and important privilege, by which each man is
constituted judge of his own words and actions, for the sake of
general good, it was next requisite to consider what expedients
might be substituted in the room of this original claim. One of
these expedients, has been monarchy. It was the interest of each
individual, that his individuality should be invaded as rarely as
possible ; that no invasion should be permitted to flow from wan-
ton caprice, from sinister and disingenuous views, or from the in-
stigation of anger, partiality and passion ; and that this bank,
Severely levied upon the peculium of each member of the society,
B 2
4 OF EDUCATION,
should be administered -with frugality arid discretion. It was,
therefore, without doubt, a very bold adventure, to commit this
precious deposit to the custody of a single man. If we contemplate
the human powers, whether of body or mind, we shall find them
much better suited to the superintendence of our private concerns
and to the administering occasional assistance to others, than to
the accepting the formal trust of superintending the affairs and
watching for the happiness of millions. If we recollect the physi-
cal and moral equality of mankind, it will appear a very violent
usurpation upon this principle, to place one individual at so vast
an interval from the rest of his species. Let us then consider
how such persons are usually educated, or may be expected to be
educated, and how well they are prepared for this illustrious
office.
It is a common opinion, " That adversity is the school, in which
all extraordinary virtue must be formed. Henry the Fourth of
France, and Elizabeth of England, experienced a long series of
calamities, before they were elevated to a throne. Alfred, of
whom the obscure chronicles of a barbarous age record such
superior virtues, passed through the vicissitudes of a vagabond and
a fugitive. Even the mixed, and, upon the whole, the vicious,
yet accomplished, characters of Frederic and Alexander, were
not formed, without the interference of injustice and persecution."
This hypothesis however seems to have been pushed too far. It
is no more reasonable to suppose that virtue cannot be matured
without injustice, than to believe, which has been another pre-
vailing opinion, that human happiness cannot be secured without
imposture and deceit.* Both these errors have a common source,
a distrust of the omnipotence of truth. If their advocates had
reflected more deeply upon the nature of the human mind, they
would have perceived, that all our voluntary actions are judg-
ments of the understanding, and that actions of the most judicious
and useful nature, must infallibly flow from a real and genuine
conviction of truth.
But, though the exaggerated opinion here stated, of the useful-
ness of adversity, be erroneous, it is, like many other of our
errors, allied to important truth. If adversity be not necessary,
it must be allowed that prosperity is pernicious. Not a genuine
and philosophical prosperity, which requires no more than sound
health with a sound intellect, the capacity of procuring for our-
selves, by a moderate and well regulated industry, the means of
subsistence, virtue, and wisdom : but prosperity as it is usually
understood, that is, a competence, provided for us by the caprice
of human institution, inviting our bodies to indolence, and our
minds to lethargy ; and still more prosperity, as it is understood
in the case of noblemen and princes, that is, a superfluity of
wealth, which deprives us of all intercourse with our fellow men,
upon equal terms, and makes us prisoners of state, gratified indeed
* Chap. XV-
THE EDUCATION OF A PRINCE. 5
with "baubles and splendour, but shut out from the real benefits
of society, and the perception of truth. If truth be so intrinsically
powerful, as to make adversity unnecessary to excite our attention
to it, it is nevertheless certain, that luxury and wealth have the
most fatal effects in distorting it. If it require no foreign aid to
assist its energies, we ought however to be upon our guard, against
principles and situations, the tendency of which may be per-
petually to counteract it.
Nor is this all. One of the most essential ingredients of virtue
is fortitude. It was the plan of many of the Grecian philosophers,
and most of all of Diogenes, to show to mankind, how very
limited is the supply that our necessities require, and how little
dependent our real welfare and prosperity are upon the caprice
of others. Among innumerable incidents upon record that illus-
trate this principle, a single one may suffice to suggest to our
minds its general spirit. Diogenes had a slave whose name was
Menas, and Menas thought proper upon some occasion to elope.
"Ha!" said the philosopher, "can Menas live without Diogenes,
and cannot Diogenes live without Menas ?" There can be no
lesson more important, than that which is here conveyed. The
man that does not know himself not to be at the mercy of other
men, that does not feel that he is invulnerable to all the vicissi-
tudes of fortune, is incapable of a constant and inflexible virtue.
He, to whom the rest of his species can reasonably look up with
confidence, must be firm, because his mind is filled with the ex-
cellence of the object he pursues ; and cheerful, because he
knows that it is out of the power of events to injure him. If any
one should choose to imagine that this idea of virtue is strained
too high, yet all must allow, that no man can be entitled to our
confidence, who trembles at every wind, who can endure no
adversity, and whose very existence is linked to the artificial
character he sustains. Nothing can more reasonably excite our
contempt, than a man who, if he were once reduced to the
genuine and simple condition of man, would be driven to despair,
and find himself incapable of consulting and providing for his
own subsistence. Fortitude is a habit of mind that grows out of
a sense of our independence. If there be a man, who dares not
even trust his own imagination with the fancied change of his
circumstances, he must necessarily be effeminate, irresolute and
temporising. He that loves sensuality or ostentation better than
virtue, may be entitled to our pity, but a madman only would
intrust to his disposal anything that was dear to him.
Again, the only means by which truth can be communicated
to the human mind, is through the inlet of the senses. It is per-
haps impossible, that a man shut up in a cabinet, can ever be
wise. If we would acquire knowledge, we must open our eyes,
and contemplate the universe. Till we are acquainted with the
meaning of terms, and the nature of the objects around us, we
cannot understand the propositions that may be formed concern-
ing them. Till we are acquainted with the nature of the objects
6 OF EDUCATION,
around us, we cannot compare them with the principles we have
formed, and understand the modes of employing them. There are
other ways of attaining wisdom and ability beside the school of
adversity, but there is no way of attaining them, but through the
medium of experience. That is, experience brings in the ma-
terials with which intellect works ; for it must be granted, that a
man of limited experience, will often be more capable, than he who
has gone through the greatest variety of scenes ; or rather per-
haps, that one man may collect more experience in a sphere of a
few miles square, than another who has sailed round the world.
To conceive truly the value of experience, we must recollect
the numerous improvements the human mind has received, and
how far an enlightened European differs from a solitary savage.
However multifarious are these improvements, there are but two
ways in which they can be appropriated by any individual ; either
at second hand by books and conversation, or at first hand by
our own observations of men and things. The improvement we
receive in the first of these modes is unlimited ; but it will not
do alone. We cannot understand books, till we have seen the
subjects of which they treat.
He that knows the mind of man, must have observed it for
himself ; he that knows it most intimately, must have observed
it in its greatest variety of situations. He must have seen it
without disguise, when no exterior situation puts a curb upon its
passions, and induces the individual to exhibit a studied, not a
spontaneous character. He must have seen men in their un-
guarded moments, when the eagerness of temporary resentment
tips their tongue with fire, when they are animated and dilated
by hope, when they are tortured and wrung with despair, when
the soul pours out its inmost self into the bosom of an equal and
a friend. Lastly, he must himself have been an actor in the
scene, have had his own passions brought into play, have known
the anxiety of expectation and the transport of success, or he will
feel and understand about as much of what he sees, as mankind
in general would of the transactions of the vitrified inhabitants
of the planet Mercury, or the salamanders that live in the sun.
Such is the education of the true philosopher, the genuine
politician, the friend and benefactor of human kind.
What is the education of a prince ? Its first quality is extreme
tenderness. The winds of heaven are not permitted to blow
upon him. He is dressed and undressed by his lacqueys and
valets. His wants are carefully anticipated ; his desires, without
any effort of his, profusely supplied. His health is of too much
importance to the community, to permit him to exert any con-
siderable effort either of body or mind. He must not hear the
voice of reprimand or blame. In all things it is first of all to be
remembered, that he is a prince, that is, some rare and precious
creature, but not of human kind.
As he is the heir to a throne, it is never forgotten by those about
him, that considerable importance is to be annexed to his favour
THE EDUCATION OF A PRINCE. 7
or his displeasure. Accordingly, they never express themselves
in his presence frankly and naturally, either respecting him or
themselves. They are supporting a part. They play under a
mask. Their own fortune and emolument is always uppermost
in their minds, at the same time that they are anxious to appear
generous, disinterested, and sincere. All his caprices are to be
complied with. All his gratifications are to be studied. They
find him a depraved and sordid mortal ; they judge of his appe-
tites and capacities by their own ; and the gratifications they
recommend, serve to sink him deeper in folly and vice.
What is the result of such an education ? Having never ex-
perienced contradiction, the young prince is arrogant and pre-
sumptuous. Having always been accustomed to the slaves of
necessity or the slaves of choice, he does not understand even
the meaning of the word freedom. His temper is insolent, and
impatient of parley and expostulation. Knowing nothing, he be-
lieves himself sovereignly informed, and runs headlong into
danger, not frou firmness and courage, but from the most egre-
gious wilfulness and vanity. Like Pyrrho among the ancient phi-
losophers, if his attendants were at a distance, and he trusted
himself alone in the open air, he would perhaps be run over by
the next coach, or fall down the first precipice. His violence
and presumption, are strikingly contrasted with the extreme
timidity of his disposition. The first opposition terrifies him, the
first difficulty, seen and understood, appears insuperable. He
trembles at a shadow, and at the very semblance of adversity is
dissolved into tears. It has accordingly been observed, that
princes are commonly superstitious beyond the rate of ordinary
mortals.
Above all, simple, unqualified truth is a stranger to his ear. It
either never approaches; or, if so unexpected a guest should
once appear, it meets with so cold a reception, as to afford little
encouragement to a second visit. The longer he has been accus
tomed to falsehood and flattery, the more grating will it sound
The longer he has been accustomed to falsehood and flattery, the
more terrible will the task appear to him, to change his tastes,
and discard his favourites. He will either place a blind con-
fidence in all men, or, having detected the insincerity of those
who were most agreeable to him, will conclude that all men are
knavish and designing. As a consequence of this last opinion, he
will become indifferent to mankind, and callous to their suffer-
ings, and will believe that even the virtuous are knaves under a
craftier mask. Such is the education of an individual, who is
destined to superintend the affairs, and watch for the happiness
of millions.
In this picture are contained the features which most obviously
constitute the education of a prince, into the conduct of which no
person of energy and virtue has by accident been introduced. la
real life it will be variously modified, but the majority of the
features, unless in rare instances, will remain the same. In no
8 OF EDUCATION,
case can the education of a friend and benefactor of human kind,
as sketched in a preceding page, by any speculative contrivance
be communicated.
Nor is there any difficulty in accounting for the universal mis-
carriage. The wisest perceptor, thus circumstanced, must labour
under insuperable disadvantages. No situation can be so artifi-
cial as that of a prince, so difficult to be understood by him who
occupies it, so irresistibly propelling the mind to mistake. The
first ideas it suggests, are of a tranquillising and soporific nature.
It fills him with the opinion, of his secretly possessing some
inherent advantage over the rest of his species, by which he
is formed to command, and they to obey. If you assure him of
the contrary, you can expect only an imperfect and temporary
credit; for facts when, as in this case, they are continually de-
posing against you, speak a language more emphatic and intelli-
gible, than words. If it were not as he supposes, why should
every one that approaches, be eager to serve him ? The sordid
and selfish motives by which they are really actuated, he is very
late in detecting. It may even be doubted, whether the indi-
vidual, who was never led to put the professions of others to the
test, by his real wants, has, in any instance, been completely
aware of the little credit that is usually due to them. A prince
finds himself courted and adored, long before he can have
acquired a merit entitling him to such distinctions. By what
arguments can you persuade him laboriously to pursue, what
appears so completely superfluous? How can you induce him
to be dissatisfied with his present acquisitions, while every other
person assures him, that his accomplishments are admirable, and
his mind a mirror of sagacity ? How will you persuade him who
finds all his wishes anticipated, to engage in any arduous under-
taking, or propose any distant object for his ambition?
But, even should you succeed in this, his pursuits may be
expected to be either mishievous or useless. His understanding
is distorted ; and the basis of all morality, the recollection that
other men are beings of the same order with himself, is extir-
pated. It would be unreasonable to expect from him anything
generous and humane. Unfortunate as he is, his situation is
continually propelling him to vice, and destroying the germs of
integrity and virtue, before they are unfolded. If sensibility
begin to discover itself, it is immediately poisoned by the blight-
ing winds of flattery. Amusement and sensuality call with an
imperious voice, and will not allow him time to feel. Artificial
as is the character he fills, even should he aspire to fame, it will
be by the artificial methods of false refinement, or the barbarous
inventions of usurpation and conquest, not by the plain and
unornamented road of benevolence.
Some idea of the methods usually pursued, and the effects
produced in the education of a prince, may be collected from a
late publication of Madame de Genlis, in which she gives an ac-
count of her own proceedings in relation to the children of the
THE EDUCATION OF A PRINCE. 9
Duke of Orleans. She thus describes the features of their dis-
position and habits, at the time they were committed to her
care. "The Duke de Valois (the eldest) is frequently coarse
in his manners, and ignoble in his expressions. He finds great
humour in calling mean and common objects by their most
vulgar appellations; all this seasoned with the proverbial pro-
pensity of Sancho, and set oft' with a loud forced laugh. His
prate is eternal, nor does he suspect but that it must be an exqui-
site gratification to any one to be entertained with it ; and he fre-
quently heightens the jest by a falsehood uttered in the gravest
manner imaginable. Neither he nor his brother has the least
regard for any body but themselves; they are selfish and grasping,
considering everything that is done for them as their due, and
imagining that they are in no respect obliged to consult the
happiness of others. The slightest reproof is beyond measure
shocking to them, and the indignation they conceive at it, im-
mediately vents itself in sullenness or tears. They are in an un-
common degree effeminate, afraid of the wind or the cold,
unable to run or leap, or even so much as to walk at a round
pace, or for more than half an hour at a time. The Duke de
Valois has an extreme terror of dogs to such a degree as to turn
pale and shriek at the sight of one." " When the children of the
Duke of Orleans were committed to my care, they had been ac-
customed in winter to wear under- waistcoats, two pair of stock-
ings, gloves, muffs, &c. The eldest, who was eight of age, never
came down stairs, without being supported by the arm of one or
two persons; the domestics were obliged to render them the
meanest services, and, for a cold or any slight indisposition, sat
up with them for nights together."*
* " M. de falois a encore des manieres bien desagr cables, des expressions
ignobles, et de terns en terns le plus mauvais ton. A present qu'il est d son
aise acec moi, il me debite avec confiance toutes les gentillesses qu'on lui a
apprises. Tout cela assaisonnc de tous les proterbcs de Sancho, et d'un gros
nre force, qui n'est pas le moindre de ses desagremems. En outre, il est
ires bavard, grand conteur, et il tnent soutent pour te divertir ; avec cela l<6
plus grande indifference pour M. et Mde. Chartres, n'y pensant jamais, les
voyant froidement ne desirant point les voir. //* etoient I'un et Vautre de
la plus grande impolitesse, oui et non tout court, ou un signe de tte, peu re-
connoissant, parce qu'ils croient qu'il n'est point de soins, d'attentions,
ni d'egards qu'on ne les doive. II n'eloit pas possible de les reprendre sans
les mettre au desepoir ; dans ce cas, toujours despleurs ou de I'humeur. Us
etoient ires douiltets, craignant le tent, le froid, ne pouvant, non seulement
ni courir ni sauter, mais meme ni marcher d'un bon pas, et plus d'une demi-
heure. Et M. le due de Valoit ayant une peur affreuse des chiens au point
de pdlir et de crier quand il en toyoit un."
" Quand on m'a. remis ceux que j'ai eleves, Us avoient Vhabitude de porter
en hirer des gillets, des doubles paires de bas, des grands manchons, etc.
L'afne, qui avoit huit ans, ne descendoit jamais un escalier sans s'appuyer
stir le bras d'une ou deux personnes. On obligeoit des domestiques de ccs
enfans d leur rendre les services les plus tils : pour un rhume, jxnir une
legere incommodite, ces domestiques passoient sans cesse les units, etc."
Lemons d'une Gouvernante d ses Eleres, par Mde. de
Siltery Brulart Cd-devant Comtesse de GcnlisJ,
Tome II.
10 PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE.
Madame de Genlis, a woman of uncommon talents, though
herself infected with a considerable number of errors corrected
these defects in the young princes. But few princes have the
good fortune to be educated by a person of so much independence
and firmness as Madame de Genlis, and we may safely take our
standard for the average calculation, rather from her predecessors,
than herself. Even were it otherwise, we have already seen
what it is that a preceptor can do in the education of a prince.
Nor should it be forgotten that the children under her care, were
not of the class of princes who seemed destined to a throne.
CHAP. III.
PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE.
Principles by which he is influenced irresponsibility impatience of
control habits of dissipation ignorance dislike of truth dislike
of justice. Pitiable situation of princes.
SUCH is the culture ; the fruit that it produces may easily be con-
jectured. The fashion which is given to the mind in youth, it
ordinarily retains in age ; and it is with ordinary cases only that
the present argument is concerned. If there have been kings, as
there have been some other men, in the forming of whom par-
ticular have outweighed general causes, the recollection of such
exceptions has little to do with the question, whether monarchy
be, generally speaking, a benefit or an evil. Nature has no par-
ticular mould in which she forms the intellects of princes;
monarchy is certainly not jure divino; and of consequence, what-
ever system we may adopt upon the subject of natural talents, the
ordinary rate of kings, will possess, at best, but the ordinary rate of
human understanding. In what has been said, and in what
remains to say, we are not to fix our minds upon prodigies, but to
think of the species as it is usually found, t
But, though education for the most part determines the cha-
racter of the future man, it may not be useless to follow the
disquisition a little further. Education, in one sense, is the affair
of youth ; but, in a stricter and more accurate sense, the educa-
tion of an intellectual being can terminate only with his life.
Every incident that befals us, is the parent of a sentiment, and
either confirms or counteracts the preconceptions of the mind.
Now the causes that acted upon kings in their minority, con-
tinue to act upon them in their maturer years. Everything is
carefully kept out of sight, that may remind them they are men.
Every means is employed which may persuade them, that they
are of a different species of beings, and subject to different laws of
PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE. 1 1
existence. " A king," such at least is the maxim of absolute mo-
narchies, "though obliged by a rigid system of duties, is accountable
for his discharge of those duties only to God." That is, exposed
to a hundred fold more seductions than ordinary men, he has not,
like them, the checks of a visible constitution of things, perpet-
ually, through, the medium of the senses, making their way to
the mind. He is taught to believe himself superior to the
restraints that bind ordinary men, and subject to a rule peculiarly
his own. Everything is trusted to the motives of an invisible
world ; which whatever may be the estimate to which they are
entitled in the view of philosophy, mankind are not now to learn,
are weakly felt by those who are immerged in splendour or
affairs, and have little chance of success, in contending with the
impressions of sense, and the allurements of visible objects.
It is a maxim generally received in the world, " that every
king is a despot in his heart," and the maxim can seldom fail to
be verified in the experiment. A limited monarch, and an abso-
lute monarch, though in many respects different, approach in
more points than they separate. A monarch, strictly without
limitation, is perhaps a phenomenon that never yet existed. All
countries have possessed some check upon despotism, which, to
their deluded imaginations, appeared a sufficient security for their
independence. All kings have possessed such a portion of luxury
and ease, have been so far surrounded with servility and false-
hood, and to such a degree exempt from personal responsibility,
as to destroy the natural and wholesome complexion of the human,
mind. Being placed so high, they find but one step between
them and the summit of social authority, and they cannot but
eagerly desire to pass that step. Having so frequent occasions
of seeing their commands implicitly obeyed, being trained in so
long a scene of adulation and servility, it is impossible they should
not feel some indignation, at the honest firmness that sets limits
to their omnipotence. But to say, " that every king is a despot
in his heart," will presently be shown to be the same thing, as to
say, that every king is, by unavoidable necessity, the enemy of
the human race.
The principal source of virtuous conduct, is to recollect the
absent. He that takes into his estimate present things alone,
will be the perpetual slave of sensuality and selfishness. He will
have no principle by which to restrain appetite, or to employ
himself in just and benevolent pursuits. The cause of virtue
and innocence, however urgent, will no sooner cease to be heard,
than it will be forgotten. Accordingly, nothing is found more
favourable to the attainment of moral excellence, than medita-
tion : nothing more hostile, than an uninterrupted succession of
amusements. It would be absurd to expect from kings the recol-
lection of virtue in exile or disgrace. It has generally been
observed, that, even for the loss of a flatterer or a favourite, they
speedily console themselves. Image after image so speedily
succeed in their sensorium, that no one leaves a durable impres-
12 PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE.
sion. A circumstance which contributes to this moral insen-
sibility, is the effeminacy and cowardice which grow out of
perpetual indulgence. Their minds irresistibly shrink from pain-
ful ideas, from motives that would awaken them to effort, and
reflections that demand severity of disquisition.
What situation can be more unfortunate, than that of a stranger,
who cannot speak our language, knows nothing of our manners
and customs, and enters into the busy scene of our affairs, with-
out one friend to advise with or assist him ? If anything is to
be got by such a man, we may depend upon seeing him instantly
surrounded with a group of thieves, sharpers, and extortioners.
They will impose upon him the most incredible stories, will
overreach him in every article of his necessities or his commerce,
and he will leave the country at last, as unfriended, and in as
absolute ignorance, as he entered it. Such a stranger is a king ;
but with this difference, that the foreigner, if he be a man of
sagacity and penetration may make his way through this crowd
of intruders, and discover a set of persons worthy of his con-
fidence, which can scarcely in any case happen to a king. He is
placed in a sphere peculiarly his own. He is surrounded with
an atmosphere, through which it is impossible for him to discover
the true colours and figure of things. The persons that are near
him, are in a cabal and conspiracy of their own ; and there is
nothing about which they are more anxious, than to keep truth
from approaching him. The man, who is not accessible to every
comer, who delivers up his person into the custody of another,
and may, for anything that he can tell, be precluded from that
very intercourse and knowledge it is most important for him
to possess, whatever name he may bear, is, in reality, a prisoner.
Whatever the arbitrary institutions of men may pretend, the
more powerful institutions of our nature, forbid one man to
transact the affairs, and provide for the welfare of millions. A
king soon finds the necessity of intrusting his functions to the ad-
ministration of his servants. He acquires the habit of seeing with
their eyes, and acting with their hands. He finds the necessity
of confiding implicitly in their fidelity. Like a man long shut up
in a dungeon, his organs are not strong enough to bear the irra-
diation of truth. Accustomed to receive information of the feel-
ings and sentiments of mankind, through the medium of another,
he cannot bear directly to converse with business and affairs.
Whoever would detach his confidence from his present favourites,
and induce him to pass over again, in scrutiny, the principles
and data which he has already adopted, requires of him too pain-
ful a task. He hastens from his adviser, to communicate the
accusation to his favourite ; and the tongue that has been accus-
tomed to gain credit, easily varnishes over this new discovery. He
flies from uncertainty, anxiety, and doubt, to his routine of
amusements ; or amusement presents itself, is importunate to be
received, and presently obliterates the tale that overspread his
mind with melancholy and suspicion. Much has been said
PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE. 13
of intrigue and duplicity. They have been alleged to intrude
themselves into the walks of commerce, to haunt the intercourse
of men of letters, and to rend the petty concerns of a village with
faction. But, wherever else they may be strangers, in courts
they undoubtedly find a congenial climate. The intrusive tale-
bearer, who carries knowledge to the ear of kings, is, within that
circle, an object of general abhorrence. The favourite marks
him for his victim ; and the inactive and unimpassioned temper
of the monarch, soon resigns him to the vindictive importunity of
Ms adversary. It is in the contemplation of these circumstances,
that Fenelon has remarked, that " kings are the most unfortunate
and the most misled of all human beings."*
But, in reality, were they in possession of purer sources of in-
formation, it would be to little purpose. Royalty inevitably allies
itself to vice. Virtue, in proportion as it has taken possession of
any character, is just, consistent, and sincere. But kings, de-
bauched from their birth, and ruined by their situation, cannot
endure an intercourse with these attributes. Sincerity, that
would tell them of their errors, and remind them of their
cowardice ; justice, that, uninfluenced by the trappings of ma-
jesty, would estimate the man at his true desert; consistency,
that no temptation would induce to part with its integrity ; are
odious and intolerable in their eyes. From such intruders, they
hasten to men of a pliant character, who will flatter their mis-
takes, put a varnish on their actions, and be visited by no scruples
in assisting the indulgence of their appetites. There is scarcely
in human nature an inflexibility that can resist perpetual flattery
and compliance. The virtues that grow up among us, are
cultured in the open soil of equality, not in the artificial climate of
greatness. We need the winds to harden, as much as the heat to
cherish us. Many a mind, that promised well in its outset, has
been found incapable to stand the test of perpetual indulgence
and ease, without one shock to waken, and one calamity to stop
it in its smooth career.
Monarchy is, in reality, so unnatural an institution, that man-
kind have, at all times, strongly suspected it was unfriendly to
their happiness. The power of truth, upon important topics, is
such, that it may rather be said to be obscured, than obliterated ;
and falsehood has scarcely ever been so successful, as not to have
had a restless and powerful antagonist in the heart of its votaries.
The man who with difficulty earns his scanty subsistence, cannot
behold the ostentatious splendour of a king, without being visited
by some sense of injustice. He inevitably questions, in his
mind, the utility of an officer, whose services are hired at so
enormous a price. If he consider the subject with any degree of
accuracy, he is led to perceive, and that with sufficient surprise,
* " Les plus malheureux et let plus atcugles de tous let homines."
Teletnaque, Lit. XIII. More forcible and impressive description is scarcely
anywhere to be found, than that of the evils inseparable from monarchical
government, contained in this and the following book of Fenelon's work.
14 PRIVATE LIFE OF A PRINCE.
that a king is nothing more than a common mortal, exceeded by
many, and equalled by more, in every requisite of strength, capa-
city, and virtue. He feels therefore that nothing can be more
groundless and unjust, than the supposing that one such man as
this, is the fittest and most competent instrument for regulating
the affairs of nations.
These reflections are so unavoidable, that kings themselves have
often been aware of the danger to their imaginary happiness with
which they are pregnant. They have sometimes been alarmed
with the progress of thinking, and oftener regarded the ease and
prosperity of their subjects as a source of terror and apprehension.
They justly consider their functions, as a sort of public exhibition,
the success of which depends upon the credulity of the spectators,
and which good sense and courage would speedily bring to con-
tempt. Hence the well known maxims of monarchical govern-
ment, that ease is the parent of rebellion ; and that it is necessary
to keep the people in a state of poverty and endurance, in order
to render them submissive. Hence it has been the perpetual
complaint of despotism, that "the restive knaves are overrun with
ease, and plenty ever is the nurse of faction."* Hence it
has been the lesson perpetually read to monarchs : " Render
your subjects prosperous, and they will speedily refuse to labour ;
they will become stubborn, proud, unsubmissive to the yoke, and
ripe for revolt. It is impotence and penury alone, that will ren-
der them supple, and prevent them from rebelling against the
dictates of authority."t
It is a common and vulgar observation that the state of a king
is greatly to be pitied. "All his actions are hemmed in with
anxiety and doubt. He cannot, like other men, indulge the gay
and careless hilarity of his mind ; but is obliged, if he be of
an honest and conscientious disposition, to consider how neces-
sary the time, which he is thoughtlessly giving to amusement,
may be, to the relief of a worthy and oppressed individual ; how
many benefits might, in a thousand instances, result from his in-
terference ; how many a guileless and undesigning heart might
be cheered by his justice. The conduct of kings is a subject for
the severest criticism, which the nature of their situation disables
them to encounter. A thousand things are done in their name in
which they have no participation ; a thousand stories are so dis-
guised to their ear, as to render the truth undiscoverable ; and the
king is the general scape-goat, loaded with the offences of all his
dependents."
No picture can be more just, judicious, and humane, than that
which is thus exhibited. Why then should the advocates of anti-
monarchical principles be considered as the enemies of kings ?
They would relieve them from " a load would sink a navy, too
Jauc Shore, Act III.
V "Si vous mettez les peuples dant I' abandonee, its ne travailleront plu,
Us deviendront fiers, indociles, et feront toujours prets afe revolter: tl n'y
OP A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM. 15
much honour."* They would exalt them to the happy and
enviable condition of private individuals. In reality, nothing can
be more iniquitous and cruel, than to impose upon a man the un-
natural office of a king. It is not less inequitable towards him
that exercises it, than towards them who are subjected to it.
Kings, if they understood their own interests, would be the first
to espouse these principles, the most eager to listen to them, the
most fervent in expressing their esteem of the men who undertake
to impress upon their species this important truth.
CHAP. IV.
OF A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM.
Supposed excellence of thu form of government controverted from the
narrowness of human powers. Case of a vicious administration of
a virtuous administration intended to be formed. Monarchy not
adapted to the government of large states.
THERE is a principle, frequently maintained upon this subject, f
which is entitled to impartial consideration. It is granted, by
those who espouse it, " that absolute monarchy, from the imper-
fection of those by whom it is administered, is, for the most part,
productive of evil;" but they assert, "that it is the best and
most desirable of all forms under a good and virtuous prince. It
is exposed," say they, "to the fate of all excellent natures, and,
from the best thing, frequently, if corrupted, becomes the worst."
This remark is certainly not very decisive of the general question,
so long as any weight shall be attributed to the arguments, which
have been adduced, to evince what sort of character and disposi-
tion may be ordinarily expected in princes. It may however be
allowed, if true, to create in the mind a sort of partial retrospect,
to this happy and perfect despotism ; and, if it can be shown to
be false, it will render the argument for the abolition of mo-
narchy, so far as it is concerned, more entire and complete.
Now, whatever dispositions any man may possess in favour
of the welfare of others, two things are necessary to give them
validity ; discernment and power. I can promote the welfare of
a few persons, because I can be sufficiently informed of their
circumstances. I can promote the welfare of many in certain
general articles, because, for this purpose, it is only necessary,
a qtie lafoillesse et la misere qui les rendent souples,etqui les empfchent d*
resistor a I'autorite." Telcmaque, Ltv, XJII,
* Shakespcre : Henry the Eighth, Act III.
* Sec Tom Jones, Book XII., Chap. XII.
16 OF A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM.
that I should be informed of the nature of the human miud as
such, not of the personal situation of the individuals concerned.
But for one man to undertake to administer the affairs of millions,
to supply, not general principles and perspicuous reasoning, but
particular application, and measures adapted to the necessities of
the moment, is of all undertakings the most extravagant and
absurd.
The most simple and obvious system of practical administra-
tion, is for each man to be the arbiter of his own concerns. If
the imperfection, the narrow views, and the mistakes of human
beings, render this, in certain cases, inexpedient and impractica-
ble, the next resource is to call in the opinion of his peers,
persons who, from their vicinity, may be presumed to have some
general knowledge of the case, and who have leisure and means
minutely to investigate the merits of the question. It cannot
reasonably be doubted, that the same expedient which is resorted
to in our civil and criminal concerns, would, by plain and un in-
structed mortals, be adopted in the assessment of taxes, in the
deliberations of commerce, and in every other article in which
their common interests were involved, only generalising the de-
liberative assembly, or pannel, in proportion to the generality of
the question to be decided.
Monarchy, instead of referring every question to the persons
concerned or their neighbours, refers it to a single individual,
placed at the greatest distance possible from the ordinary mem-
bers of the society. Instead of distributing the causes to be
judged, into as many parcels as convenience would admit, for
the sake of providing leisure and opportunities of examination, it
draws them to a single centre, and renders enquiry and examina-
tion impossible. A despot, however virtuously disposed, is obliged
to act in the dark, to derive his knowledge from other men's
information, and to execute his decisions by other men's instru-
mentality. Monarchy seems to be a species of government pro-
scribed by the nature of man ; and those persons, who furnished
their despot with integrity and virtue, forgot to add omniscience
and omnipotence, qualities not less necessary to fit him for the
office they had provided.
Let us suppose this honest and incorruptible despot to be
served by ministers, avaricious, hypocritical, and interested.
What will the people gain by the good intentions of their mo-
narch ? He will mean them the greatest benefits, but he will be
altogether unacquainted with their situation, their character, and
their wants. The information he receives, will frequently be the
very reverse of the truth. He will be taught that one individual
is highly meritorious, and a proper subject of reward, whose only
merit is the profligate servility with which he has fulfilled the
purposes of his administration. He will be taught that another
is the pest of the community, who is indebted for this report, to
the steady virtue with which he has traversed and defeated the
wickedness of government. He will mean the greatest benefits
OF A VIRTUOUS DESPOTISM. 17
to his people ; but, when he prescribes something calculated for
their advantage, his servants, under pretence of complying, shall,
in reality, perpetrate diametrically the reverse. Nothing will be
more dangerous, than to endeavour to remove the obscurity with
which his ministers surround him. The man, who attempts so
hardy a task, will become the incessant object of their hatred.
However incorruptible may be the justice of the sovereign, the
time will come when his observation will be laid asleep, while
malice and revenge are ever vigilant. Could he unfold the
secrets of his prison-houses of state, he would find men com-
mitted in his name, whose crimes he never knew, whose names
he never heard of, perhaps men whom he honoured and esteemed.
Such is the history of the benevolent and philanthropic despots
whom memory has recorded ; and the conclusion from the whole
is, that, wherever despotism exists, there it will always be at-
tended with the evils of despotism, capricious measures and
arbitrary infliction.
" But will not a wise king provide himself with good and
virtuous servants ?" Undoubtedly he will effect a part of this,
but he cannot supersede the nature of things. He that executes
an office as a deputy, will never discharge it in the same spirit, as
if he were the principal. Either the minister must be the author
of the plans which he carries into effect, and then it is of little
consequence, except so far as relates to his integrity in the choice
of his servants, what sort of mortal the sovereign shall be found ;
or he must play a subordinate part, and then it is impossible to
transfuse into his mind the perspicacity and energy of his master.
Wherever despotism exists, it cannot remain in a single hand,
but must be transmitted whole and entire through the progressive
links of authority. To render despotism auspicious and benign,
it is necessary, not only that the sovereign should possess every
human excellence, but that all his officers should be men of
penetrating genius and unspotted virtue. If they fall short of
this, they will, like the ministers of Elizabeth, be sometimes
specious profligates,* and sometimes men, who, however admi-
rably adapted for the technical emergencies of business, consult,
on many occasions exclusively, their private advantage, worship
the rising sun, enter into vindictive cabals, and cuff down new-
fledged merit.-f Wherever the continuity is broken, the flood of
vice will bear down all before it. One weak or disingenuous man
will be the source of unbounded mischief.
Another position, not less generally asserted than the desirable-
ness of a virtuous despotism, is, " that republicanism is a species
of government practicable only in a small state, while monarchy
is best fitted to embrace the concerns of a vast and flourishing
empire." The reverse of this, so far at least as relates to
Dudley, Earl of Leicester.
t Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, lord treasurer; Howard, Earl of Nottingham,
lord admiral, &c.
17. VOL. II.
18 OP COURTS AND MINISTERS.
monarchy appears, at first sight to be the truth. The competence
of any government cannot be measured by a purer standard, than
the extent and accuracy of its information. In this respect
monarchy appears in all cases to be wretchedly deficient ; but,
if it can ever be admitted, it must surely be in those narrow and
limited instances, where an individual can, with least absurdity,
be supposed to be acquainted with the affairs and interests of the
whole.*
CHAP. V.
OF COURTS AND MINISTERS.
Systematical monopoly of confidence. Character of ministers and their
dependents. Duplicity of courts. Venality and corruption. Uni-
versality of this principle.
WE shall be better enabled to judge of the dispositions, with
which information is communicated, and measures are executed,
in monarchical countries, if we reflect upon another of the ill
consequences attendant upon this species of government, the exist-
ence and corruption of courts.
The character of this, as well as of every other human institu-
tion, arises out of the circumstances with which it is surrounded.
Ministers and favourites are a sort of people who have a state
prisoner in their custody, the whole management of whose under-
standing and actions they can easily engross. This they com-
pletely effect with a weak and credulous master, nor can the
most cautious and penetrating entirely elude their machinations.
They unavoidably desire to continue in the administration of his
functions, whether it be emolument, or the love of homage, or
any more generous motive, by which they are attached to it.
But, the more they are confided in by the sovereign, the greater
will be the permanence of their situation ; and, the more exclu-
sive is their possession of his ear, the more implicit will be his
confidence. The wisest of mortals are liable to error ; the most
judicious projects are open to specious and superficial objections ;
and it can rarely happen but a minister will find his ease and
security, in excluding, as much as possible, other and opposite
advisers, whose acuteness and ingenuity are perhaps additionally
whetted, by a desire to succeed to his office.
Ministers become a sort of miniature kings in their turn.
Though they have the greatest opportunity of observing the
impotence and unmeaningness of the character, they envy it.
It is their trade perpetually to extol the dignity and importance
of the master they serve; and men cannot long and anxiously
endeavour to convince others of the truth of any proposition,
* Paine's Letter to the Republican.
OF COURTS AXD MINISTERS. 19
without becoming half convinced of it themselves. They feel
themselves dependent for all that they most ardently desire, upon
this man's arbitrary will ; but a sense of inferiority, is perhaps
the never failing parent of emulation or envy. They assimilate
themselves therefore, of choice, to a man, to whose circumstances
their own are considerably similar.
In reality the requisites, without which monarchical govern-
ment cannot be preserved in existence, are by no means suffici-
ently supplied by the mere intervention of ministers. There must
be the ministers of ministers, and a long bead-roll of subordina-
tion, descending by tedious and complicated steps. Each of these,
lives on the smile of the minister, as he lives on the smile of the
sovereign. Each of these has his petty interests to manage, and
his empire to employ under the guise of servility. Each imitates
the vices of his superior, and exacts from others the adulation
he is obliged to pay.
It has already appeared that a king is necessarily, and almost
unavoidably a despot in his heart.* He has been used to hear
those things only which were adapted to give him pleasure ; and
it is with a grating and uneasy sensation, that he listens to com-
munications of a different sort. He has been used to unhesitating
compliance ; and it is with difficulty he can digest expostulation
and opposition. Of consequence the honest and virtuous cha-
racter, whose principles are clear and unshaken, is least qualified
for his service ; he must either explain away the severity of his
principles, or he must give place to a more crafty and temporising
politician. The temporising politician expects the same pliability
in others that he exhibits in himself; and the fault which he
can least forgive, is an ill-timed and inauspicious scrupulosity.
Expecting this compliance from all the coadjutors and instru-
ments of his designs, he soon comes to set it up, as a standard,
by which to judge of the merit of other men. He is deaf to
every recommendation, but that of a fitness for the secret service
of government, or a tendency to promote his interest, and extend
the sphere of his influence. The worst man, with this argument
in his favour, will seem worthy of encouragement ; the best man,
who has no advocate but virtue to plead for him, will be treated
with superciliousness and neglect. The genuine criterion of
human desert can scarcely indeed be superseded and reversed.
But it will appear to be reversed, and appearance will produce
many of the effects of reality. To obtain honour, it will be
thought necessary to pay a servile court to administration, to
bear, with unaltered patience, their contumely and scorn, to
flatter their vices, and render ourselves useful to their private
gratification. To obtain honour it will be thought necessary, by
assiduity and intrigue, to make ourselves a party, to procure the
recommendation of lords, and the good word of women of plea-
sure, and clerks in office. To obtain honour it will be thought neces-
* p. 11
c 2
20 OF COURTS AND MINISTERS.
sary to merit disgrace. The whole scene consists in hollowness,
duplicity, and falsehood. The minister speaks fair to the man he
despises, and the slave pretends a generous attachment, while he
thinks of nothing but his personal interest. That these principles
are interspersed under the worst governments, with occasional
deviations into better, it would be folly to deny ; that they do not
form the great prevailing features, wherever a court and a
monarch are to be found, it would be madness to assert.
There is one feature above all others, which has never escaped
the most superficial delineator of the manners of a court ; I mean,
the profound dissimulation which is there cultivated. The min-
ister has, in the first place, to deceive the sovereign, continually
to pretend to feel whatever his master feels, to ingratiate himself
by an uniform insincerity, and to make a show of the most unre-
served affection and attachment. His next duty, is to cheat his
dependents and the candidates for office ; to keep them in a per-
petual fever of desire and expectation. Recollect the scene of a
ministerial levee. To judge by the external appearance, we
should suppose this to be the chosen seat of disinterested kindness.
All that is erect and decisive in man, is shamelessly surrendered.
No professions of submission can be so base, no forms of adula-
tion so extravagant, but that they are eagerly practised by these
voluntary prostitutes. Yet it is notorious that, in this scene above
all others, hatred has fixed its dwelling ; jealousy rankles in
every breast ; and the most of its personages would rejoice in the
opportunity of ruining each other for ever. Here it is that
promises, protestations, and oaths, are so wantonly multiplied, as
almost to have lost their meaning. There is scarcely a man so
weak, as, when he has received a court promise, not to tremble,
lest it should be found as false and unsubstantial by him, as it
has proved to so many others.
At length, by the constant practice of dissimulation, the true
courtier comes to be unable to distinguish, among his own senti-
ments, the pretended from the real. He arrives at such profi-
ciency in his art, as to have neither passions nor attachments.
Personal kindness, and all consideration for the merit of others,
are swallowed up in a narrow and sordid ambition ; not that
generous ambition for the esteem of mankind, which reflects a
sort of splendour upon vice itself, but an ambition of selfish
gratification and illiberal intrigue. Such a man has bid a long
farewell to every moral restraint, and thinks his purposes cheaply
promoted by the sacrifice of honour, sincerity, and justice. His
chief study and greatest boast are to be impenetrable ; that no
man shall be able to discover what he designs ; that, though you
discourse with Mm for ever, he shall constantly elude your de-
tection. Consummate in his art, he will often practice it without
excuse or necessity. Thus history records her instances of the
profuse kindness and endearment, with which monarchs have
treated those they had already resolved to destroy. A gratuitous
pride seems to have been placed, in exhibiting the last refinement
OF COURTS AND MINISTERS. 21
of profligacy and deceit. Ministers of this character are the
mortal enemies of virtue in others. A cabal of such courtiers is
in the utmost degree deadly. They destroy by secret ways, that
give no warning, and leave no trace. If they have to do with a
blunt, just man who knows no disguise, or a generous spirit that
scorns to practise dissimulation and artifice, they mark him their
certain victim. No good or liberal character can escape their
machinations ; and the immorality of the court, which throws
into shade all other wickedness, spreads its contagion through the
land, and emasculates the sentiments of the most populous nation.
A fundamental disadvantage in monarchical government, is,
that it renders things of the most essential importance, subject,
through successive gradations, to the caprice of individuals. The
suffrage of a body of electors, will always bear a resemblance,
more or less remote, to the public sentiment. The suffrage of an
individual will depend upon caprice, personal convenience, or
pecuniary corruption. If the king be himself inaccessible to
injustice, if the minister disdain a bribe, yet the fundamental evil
remains, that kings and ministers, fallible themselves, must, upon
a thousand occasions, depend upon the recommendation of others-
Who will answer for these, through all their classes, officers
of state, and deputies of office, humble friends, and officious
valets, wives and daughters, concubines and confessors ?
It is supposed by many, that the existence of permanent here-
ditary distinction, is necessary to the maintenance of order,
among beings so imperfect as the human species. But it is
allowed by all, that permanent hereditary distinction is a fiction
of policy, not an ordinance of immutable truth. Wherever it
exists, the human mind, so far as relates to political society, is
prevented from settling upon its true foundation. There is a con-
stant struggle, between the genuine sentiments of the understand-
ing, which tell us that all this is an imposition, and the imperi-
uus voice of government, which bids us reverence and obey. In
this unequal contest, alarm and apprehension will perpetually
haunt the minds of those who exercise usurped power. In this
artificial state of man, powerful engines must be employed to pre-
vent him from rising to his true level. It is the business of the
governors to persuade the governed, that it is their interest to be
slaves. They have no other means by which to create this ficti-
tious interest, but those which they derive from the perverted
understandings, and burdened property of the public, to be
returned in titles, ribbands, and bribes. Hence that system
of universal corruption, without which monarchy could not exist.
It has sometimes been supposed that corruption is particularly
incident to a mixed government. "In such a government
the people possess a portion of freedom ; privilege finds its place
as well as prerogative ; a certain sturdincss of manner, and con-
sciousness of independence, are the natives of these countries.
The country-gentleman will not abjure the dictates of his judg-
ment without a valuable consideration. There is here more than
22 OF COURTS AND MINISTERS.
one road to success ; popular favour is as sure a means of
advancement as courtly patronage. In despotic countries the
people may be driven like sheep ; however unfortunate is their
condition, they know no other, and they submit to it as an inevit-
able calamity. Their characteristic feature is a torpid dulness, in
which all the energies of man are forgotten. But, in a country
calling itself free, the minds of the inhabitants are in a perturbed
and restless state, and extraordinary means must be employed to
calm their vehemence." It has sometimes happened, to men
whose hearts have been pervaded with the love of virtue, of
which pecuniary prostitution is the most odious corruption, to
prefer, while they have contemplated this picture, an acknow-
ledged despotism, to a state of specious and imperfect liberty.
But the picture is not accurate. As much of it as relates to
a mixed government, mast be acknowledged to be true. But the
features of despotism are too favourably touched. Whether privi-
lege be conceded by the forms of the constitution or no, a whole
nation cannot be kept ignorant of its force. No people were ever
yet so sunk in stupidity, as to imagine one man, because he bore
the appellation of a king, literally equal to a million. In a whole
nation, as monarchical nations at least must be expected to be
constituted, there will be nobility and yeomanry, rich and poor.
There will be persons who, by their situation, their wealth, or
their talents, form a middle rank between the monarch and the
vulgar, and who, by their confederacies and their intrigues, can
hold the throne in awe. These men must be bought or defied.
There is no disposition that clings so close to despotism, as inces-
sant terror and alarm. What else gave birth to the armies of
spies, and the numerous state prisons under the old government
of France ? The eye of the tyrant is never closed. How numer-
ous are the precautions and jealousies that these terrors dictate ?
No man can go out, or come into the country, but he is watched.
The press must issue no productions that have not the imprimatur
of government. All coffee-houses, and places of public resort,
are objects of attention. Twenty people cannot be collected
together, unless for the purposes of superstition, but it is im-
mediately suspected that they maybe confering about their rights.
Is it to be supposed, that, where the means of jealousy are
employed, the means of corruption will be forgotten ? Were it so
indeed, the case would not be much improved. No picture can
be more disgustful, no state of mankind more depressing, than
that, in which a whole nation is held in obedience, by the mere
operation of fear, in which all that is most eminent among them,
and that should give example to the rest, is prevented, under the
severest penalties, from expressing its real sentiments, and, by
necessary consequence, from forming any sentiments that are
worthy to be expressed. But, in reality, fear was never the only
instrument employed for these purposes. No tyrant was ever so
unsocial, as to have no confederates in his guilt. This monstrous
edifice will always be found supported by all the various instru-
OF SUBJECTS. 23
ments for perverting the human character, severity, menaces,
blandishments, professions, and bribes. To this it is, in a great
degree, owing, that monarchy is so costly an establishment. It is
the business of the despot to distribute his lottery of seduction
into as many prizes as possible. Among the consequences of a
pecuniary polity these are to be reckoned the foremost, that every
man is supposed to have his price, and that, the corrruption being
managed in an underhand manner, many a man, who appears a
patriot, may be really an hireling ; by which means virtue itself
is brought into discredit, is either regarded as mere folly and ro-
mance, or observed with doubt and suspicion, as the cloak
of vices, which are only the more humiliating the more they arc
concealed.
CHAP. VI.
OF SUBJECTS.
Monarchy founded in imposture. Kings not entitled to superiority
inadequate to the functions they possess. Means by which the im-
posture is maintained 1, splendour 2, exaggeration. This im-
posture generates t, indifference to merit 2, indifference to truth
3, artificial desires 4, pusillanimity. Moral incredulity of mo-
narchical countries. Injustice of luxury of the inordinate admira-
tion of wealth.
LET us proceed to consider the moral effects, which the institu-
tion of monarchical government is calculated to produce, upon
the inhabitants of the countries in which it flourishes. And here
it must be laid down as a first principle, that monarchy is founded
in imposture. It is false, that kings are entitled to the eminence
they obtain. They possess no intrinsic superiority over their sub-
jects. The line of distinction that is drawn, is the offspring of
pretence, an indirect means employed for effecting certain pur-
poses, and not the language of truth. It tramples upon the
genuine nature of things, and depends for its support upon this
argument, " that, were it not for impositions of a similar nature,
mankind would be miserable."
Secondly, it is false that kings can discharge the functions of
royalty. They pretend to superintend the affairs of millions, and
they are necessarily unacquainted with these affairs. The senses
of kings are constructed like those of other men: they can
neither see nor hear what is transacted in their absence. They
pretend to administer the affairs of millions, and they possess no
such supernatural powers, as should enable them to act at a dis-
tance. They are nothing of what they would persuade us to
believe them. The king is often ignorant of that, of which half
24 OF SUBJECTS.
the inhabitants of his dominions are informed. His prerogatives
are administered by others, and the lowest clerk in office is fre-
quently, to this and that individual, more effectually the sovereign,
than the king himself. He is wholly unacquainted with what is
solemnly transacted in his name.
To conduct this imposture with success, it is necessary to
bring over to its party our eyes and our ears. Accordingly kings
are always exhibited, with all the splendour of ornament, attend-
ance, and equipage. They live amidst a sumptuousness of ex-
pence; and this, not merely to gratify their appetites, but as a
necessary instrument of policy. The most fatal opinion that
could lay hold upon the minds of their subjects is, that kings are
but men. Accordingly, they are carefully withdrawn from the
profaneness of vulgar inspection ; and, when they are shown to
the public, it is with every artifice that may dazzle our sense,
and mislead our judgment.
The imposture does not stop with our eyes, but addresses itself
to our ears. Hence the inflated style of regal formality. The
name of the king everywhere obtrudes itself upon us. It would
seem as if everything in the country, the lands, the houses, the
furniture, and the inhabitants, were his property. Our estates,
are the king's dominions. Our bodies and minds, are his sub-
jects. Our representatives, are his parliament. Our courts of
Jaw, are his deputies. All magistrates, throughout the realm, are
the king's officers. His name occupies the foremost place in all
statutes and decrees. He is the prosecutor of every criminal.
He is " Our Sovereign Lord the King." Were it possible that
"he should die, " the fountain of our blood, the means by which
we live," would be gone : every political function would be
suspended. It is therefore one of the fundamental principles of
monarchical government, that "the king cannot die." Our
moral principles accommodate themselves to our veracity : and,
accordingly, the sum of our political duties (the most important
of all duties, ) is loyalty; to be true and faithful to the king; to
honour a man whom, it may be, we ought to despise; and to
obey ; that is, to convert our shame into our pride, and to be
ostentatious of the surrender of our own understandings. The
morality of adults in this situation, is copied from the basest part
of the morality sometimes taught to children ; and the perfection
of virtue is placed, in blind compliance, and unconditional sub-
mission.
What must be the effects of this machine upon the moral prin-
ciples of mankind ? Undoubtedly we cannot trifle with the
principles of morality and truth, with impunity. However gravely
the imposture may be carried on, it is impossible but that the
real state of the case should be strongly suspected. Man in a
state of society, if undebauched by falsehoods like these, which
confound the nature of right and wrong, is not ignorant of what
it is in which merit consists. He knows that one man is not
superior to another, except so far as he is wiser or better.
OF SUBJECTS. 25
Accordingly these are the distinctions to which he aspires for
himself. These are the qualities he honours and applauds in
another, and which therefore the feelings of each man instigate
his neighbours to acquire. But what a revolution is introduced
among these original and undebauched sentiments, by the arbi-
trary distinctions which monarchy engenders ? We still retain in
our minds the standard of merit : but it daily grows more feeble
and powerless ; we are persuaded to think that it is of no real
use in the transactions of the world, and presently lay it aside as
Utopian and visionary.
Nor is this the whole of the injurious consequences produced,
by the hyperbolical pretensions of monarchy. There is a simpli-
city in truth that refuses alliance with this impudent mysticism.
No man is entirely ignorant of the nature of man. He will not
indeed be incredulous to a degree of energy and rectitude, that
may exceed the standard of his preconceived ideas. But for one
man to pretend to think and act for a nation of his fellows, is so
preposterous, as to set credibility at defiance. Is he persuaded
that the imposition is salutary ? He willingly assumes the right of
introducing similar falsehoods into his private affairs. He be-
comes convinced, that veneration for truth, is to be classed among
our errors and prejudices, and that, so far from being, as it
pretends to be, in all cases salutary, it would lead, if ingeniously
practised, to the destruction of mankind.
Again, if kings were exhibited simply as they are in them-
selves to the inspection of mankind, the " salutary prejudice,"
as it has been called,* which teaches us to venerate them, would
speedily be extinct : it has therefore been found necessary to sur-
round them with luxury and expense. Thus luxury and expense
are made the standard of honour, and of consequence the topics
of anxiety and envy. However fatal this sentiment may be to
the morality and happiness of mankind, it is one of those illu-
sions which monarchical government is eager to cherish. In
reality, the first principle of virtuous feeling, as has been else-
where said,f is the love of independence. He that would be
just, must, before all things, estimate the objects about him at
their true value. But the principle in regal states has been, to
think your father the wisest of men, because he is your father,}:
and your king the foremost of his species, because he is a king.
The standard of intellectual merit, is no longer the man, but his
title. To be drawn in a coach of state by eight milk-white
* Burke's Reflections. t P. 5.
* "The persons whom you ought to love infinitely more than me, are
those to whom you are indebted for your existence." " Their conduct ought
to regulate yours and be the standard of your sentiments." " The respect
we owe to our father and mother is a sort of worship, as the phrase filial
piety implies." " Ce que roun devez ainier avant moi sans aucune comparai-
sen, cc sont ceux a qui vous devez la vie." " Leur conduite doit regler la
rotre et fixer rotre opinion" " Le respect que nous derons a notre pere et d
notre mere est un culte, comme Vezprime le mot pi4t6 filiale." Lemons d'une
Gouternante, Tome I.
26 OF SUBJECTS.
horses, is the highest of all human claims to our veneration. The
same principle inevitably runs tlirough every order of the state,
and men desire wealth under a monarchical government, for the
same reason that, under other circumstances, they would have
desired virtue.
Let us suppose an individual who by severe labour earns a
scanty subsistence, to become, by accident or curiosity, a spec-
tator of the pomp of a royal progress. Is it possible that he
should not mentally apostrophise this elevated mortal, and ask,
" What has made thee to differ from me ?" If no such sentiment
pass through his mind, it is a proof that the corrupt institutions
of society have already divested him of all sense of justice. The
more simple and direct is his character, the more certainly will
these sentiments occur. What answer shall we return to his
enquiry ? That the well being of society, requires men to be
treated otherwise than according to their intrinsic merit ? Whether
he be satisfied with this answer or no, will he not aspire to pos-
sess that (which in this instance is wealth), to which the policy
of mankind has annexed such high distinction ? Is it not indis-
pensable, that, before he believes in the rectitude of this institu-
tion, his original feelings of right and wrong should be wholly
reversed ? If it be indispensable, then let the advocate of the
monarchical system ingenuously declare, that, according to that
system, the interest of society, in the first instance, requires the
subversion of all principles of moral truth and justice.
With this view let us again recollect the maxim adopted in
monarchical countries, "that the king never dies." Thus, with
true oriental extravagance, we salute this imbecile mortal, " O
king, live for ever!" Why do we this? Because upon his
existence the existence of the state depends. In his name the
courts of law are opened. If his political capacity be suspended
for a moment, the centre to which all public business is linked, is
destroyed. In such countries everything is uniform : the cere-
mony is all, and the substance nothing. In the riots in the year
1780, the mace of the house of lords was proposed to be sent into
the passages, by the terror of its appearance to quiet the con-
fusion ; but it was observed that, if the mace should be rudely
detained by the rioters, the whole would be thrown into anarchy.
Business would be at a stand; their insignia, and, with their
insignia, their legislative and deliberative functions, would be
gone. Who can expect firmness and energy in a country, where
everything is made to depend, not upon justice, public interest,
and reason, but upon a piece of gilded wood ? What conscious
dignity and virtue can there be among a people, who, if deprived
of the imaginary guidance of one vulgar mortal, are taught to
believe that their faculties are benumbed, and all their joints
unstrung ?
Lastly, one of the most essential ingredients in a virtuous
character, is undaunted firmness ; and nothing can more power-
fully tend to destroy this principle than the spirit of a monarch!-
OF SUBJECTS. 27
cal government. The first lesson of virtue is, Fear no man ; the
first lesson of such a constitution is, Fear the king. The true
interest of man, requires the annihilation of factitious and ima-
ginary distinctions ; it is inseparable from monarchy to support
and render them more palpable than ever. He that cannot speak
to the proudest despot, with a consciousness that he is a man
speaking to a man, and a determination to yield him no superi-
ority to which his inherent qualifications do not entitle him, is
wholly incapable of an illustrious virtue. How many such men
are bred within the pale of monarchy ? How long would mo-
narchy maintain its ground in a nation of such men ? Surely it
would be wisdom in society, instead of conjuring up a thousand
phantoms to seduce us into error, instead of surrounding us with
a thousand fears to deprive us of energy, to remove every obstacle
to our progress, and smooth the path of improvement.
Virtue was never yet held in much honour and esteem in a
monarchical country. It is the inclination and the interest of
courtiers and kings, to bring it into disrepute ; and they are but
too successful in the attempt. Virtue is, in their conception,
arrogant, intrusive, unmanageable, and stubborn. It is an as-
sumed outside, by which those who pretend to it, intend to gratify
their rude tempers, or their secret views. Within the circle of
monarchy, virtue is always regarded with dishonourable incredu-
lity. The philosophical system, which affirms self-love to be the
first mover of all our actions, and the falsity of human virtues, is
the growth of these countries.* Why is it that the language of
integrity and public spirit is constantly regarded among us as
hypocrisy ? It was not always thus. It was not till the usurpa-
tion of Caesar, that books were written, by the tyrant and his
partisans, to prove that Cato was no better than a snarling pre-
tender.f
There is a further consideration, which has seldom been ad-
verted to iipon.this subject, but which seems to be of no inconsi-
derable importance. In our definition of justice, it appeared,
that our debt to our fellow men, extended to all the efforts we
could make for their welfare, and all the relief we could supply
to their necessities. Not a talent do we possess, not a moment of
time, not a shilling of property, for which we are not responsible
at the tribunal of the public, which we are not obliged to pay
into the general bank of common advantage. Of every one of
these things there is an employment which is best, and that best
justice obliges us to select. But how extensive is the conse-
quence of this principle, with respect to the luxuries and ostenta-
tion of human life ? How many of these luxuries are there, that
would stand the test, and approve themselves, upon examination,
to be the best objects upon which our property could be em-
* Maximes, par M. le Due d<>. la Rochefoucault : De la Fausscte dcs
Fertus Humaines, par M. Esprit.
t See Plutarch's Lives ; Lives of Caesar and Cicero : Ciceronii Epistlcce
ad Atticum, Lib. XII. Epist, xl., xli.
28 OF SUBJECTS.
ployed ? Will it often come out to "be true, that hundreds of
individuals ought to be subjected to the severest and most inces-
sant labour, that one man may spend in idleness, what would
afford to the general mass, ease, leisure, and consequently wisdom ?
Whoever frequents the habitations of the luxurious, will speedily
be infected with the vices of luxury. The ministers and attend-
ants of a sovereign, accustomed to the trappings of magnificence,
will turn with disdain, from the merit that is obscured with the
clouds of adversity. In vain may virtue plead, in vain may talents
solicit distinction, if poverty seem, to the fastidious sense of the
man in place, to envelop them, as it were, with its noisome
effluvia. The very lacquey knows how to repel unfortunate merit
from the great man's door.
Here then we are presented with the lesson which is, loudly
and perpetually, read, through all the haunts of monarchy. Money
is the great requisite, for the want of which nothing can atone.
Distinction, the homage and esteem of mankind, are to be
bought, not earned. The rich man need not trouble himself
to invite them, they come unbidden to his surly door. Rarely
indeed does it happen, that there is any crime that gold cannot
expiate, any baseness and meanness of character that wealth can-
not shroud" in oblivion. Money therefore is the only object
worthy of your pursuit, and it is of little importance by what
sinister and unmanly means, so it be but obtained.
It is true that virtue and talents do not stand in need of the
great man's assistance, and might, if they did but know their
worth, repay his scorn with a just and enlightened pity. But,
unfortunately, they are often ignorant of their strength, and adopt
the errors they see universally espoused. Were it otherwise,
they would indeed be happier, but the general manners would
perhaps remain the same. The general manners are fashioned
by the form and spirit of the national government ; and, if, in
extraordinary cases, they cease to yield to the mould, they speedily
change the form to which they fail to submit.
The evils indeed that arise out of avarice, an inordinate admi-
ration of wealth, and an intemperate pursuit of it, are so obvious,
that they have constituted a perpetual topic of lamentation and
complaint. The object in this place, is to consider how far they
are extended and aggravated, by a monarchical government, that
is, by a constitution, the very essence of which, is to accumulate
enormous wealth upon a single head, and to render the ostenta-
tion of splendour the established instrument for securing honour
and veneration. The object is to consider in what degree the
luxury of courts, the effeminate softness of favourites, the system,
never to be separated from the monarchical form, of putting
men's approbation and good word at a price, of individuals buying
the favour of government, and government buying the favour of
individuals, is injurious to the moral improvement of mankind.
As long as the unvarying practice of courts is cabal, and as long
as the unvarying tendency of cabal is to bear down talents, and
OF ELECTIVE MONARCHY. 29
discourage virtue, to recommend cunning in the room of sin-
cerity, a servile and supple disposition in preference to firmness
and inflexibility, a pliant and selfish morality as better than an
ingenuous one, and the study of the red book of promotion rather
than the study of the general welfare, so long will monarchy be
the bitterest and most potent of all the adversaries of the true
interests of mankind.
CHAP. VII.
OF ELECTIVE MONARCHY.
Disorders attendant on such an election. Election is intended either to
provide a man of great or of moderate talents, Consequences of the
first of the second. Can elective and hereditary monarchy be
combined ?
HAVING considered the nature of monarchy in general, it is
incumbent on us to examine how far its mischiefs may be quali-
fied, by rendering the monarchy elective.
One of the most obvious objections to this remedy, is the diffi-
culty that attends upon the conduct of such an election. There
are machines, that are too mighty for the human hand to conduct ;
there are proceedings, that are too gigantic and unweildly for
human institutions to regulate. The distance, between the mass
of mankind, and a sovereign, is so immense, the trust to be con-
fided so incalculably great, the temptations of the object to be
decided on so alluring, as to set every passion that can vex the
mind, in tumultuous conflict. Election will therefore either
dwindle into an empty form, a conge d'clire with the successful
candidate's name at full length in the conclusion, an election
perpetually continued in the same family, perhaps in the same
lineal order of descent ; or will become the signal of a thousand
calamities, foreign cabal, and domestic war. These evils have
been so generally understood, that elective monarchy, in the strict
sense of that appellation, has had very few advocates.
Rousseau, who, in his advice to the Polish nation, appears to
be one of those few, that is, one of those who, without loving
monarchy, conceive an elective sovereignty to be greatly prefer-
able to au hereditary one, endeavours to provide against the
disorders of an election, by introducing into it a species of
sortition.* In another part of the present enquiry, it will be
our business to examine how far chance, and the decision by lot,
are compatible with the principles, either of sound morality, or
* Considerations sur h Gowernemcnt fa Fotogne, Chap. VIII.
30 OF ELECTIVE MONARCHY.
sober reason. For the present, it will be sufficient to say, that
the project of Kousseau will probably fall under one part 'of the
following dilemma, and of consequence will be refuted, by the
same arguments, that bear upon the mode of election in its
most obvious idea.
The design with which election can be introduced into the
constitution of a monarchy, must either be that of raising to the
kingly office a man of surperlatiye talents and uncommon genius,
or of providing a moderate portion of wisdom and good intention
for these functions, and preventing them from falling into the
hands of persons of notorious imbecility. To the first of these
designs it will be objected by many, "that genius is frequently
nothing more in the hands of its possessor, than an instrument
for accomplishing the most pernicious intentions." And, though
in this assertion there is much partial and mistaken exaggeration,
it cannot however be denied, that genius, such as we find it
amidst the present imperfections of mankind, is compatible with
very serious and essential errors. If then genius can, by temp-
tations of various sorts, be led into practical mistake, may we
not reasonably entertain a fear respecting the effect of that
situation which is so singularly pregnant with temptation ? If
considerations of inferior note be apt to mislead the mind, what
shall we think of this most intoxicating draught, of a condition
superior to restraint, stripped of all those accidents and vicissi-
tudes from which the morality of human beings has flowed, with
no salutary check, with no intellectual warfare, where mind
meets mind on equal terms, but perpetually surrounded with
sycophants, servants, and dependents? To suppose a mind in
which genius and virtue are united and permanent is also un-
doubtedly to suppose something, \vhich no calculation will teach
us to expect should offer upon every vacancy. And, if the man
could be found, we must imagine to ourselves electors almost as
virtuous as the elected, or else error and prejudice, faction and
intrigue, will render his election at least precarious, perhaps im-
probable. Add to this, that it is sufficiently evident, from the
unalterable evils of monarchy already enumerated, and which
we shall presently have occasion to recapitulate, that the first act
of sovereignty in a virtuous monarch, whose discernment was
equal to his virtue, would be to annihilate the constitution, wlu'ch
had raised him to a throne. *
But we will suppose the purpose of instituting an elective
monarchy, not to be that of constantly filling the throne with a
man of sublime genius, but merely to prevent the office from
falling into the hands of a person of notorious imbecility. Such
is the strange and pernicious nature of monarchy, that it may be
doubted whether this be a benefit. Wherever monarchy exists,
courts and administrations must, as long as men can see only
with their eyes, and act only with their hands, be its constant
attendants. But these have already appeared to be institutions
so mischievous, that perhaps one of the greatest injuries that can
OP ELECTIVE MONARCHY. 31
"be done to mankind, is to persuade them of their innocence.
Under the most virtuous despot, favour and intrigue, the unjust
exaltation of one man, and depression of another, will not fail
to exist. Under the most virtuous despot, the true spring there
is in mind, the desire to possess merit, and the consciousness
that merit will not fail to make itself perceived by those around
it, and through their esteem to rise to its proper sphere, will be
cut off ; and mean and factitious motives be substituted in its
room. Of what consequence is it that my merit is perceived by
mortals who have no power to advance it ? The monarch, shut
up in his sanctuary, and surrounded with formalities, will never
hear of it. How should he ? Can he know what is passing in
the remote corners of his kingdom ? Can he trace the first ten-
der blossoms of genius and virtue ? The people themselves will
lose their discernment of these things, because they will perceive
their discernment to be powerless in effects. The birth of mind
is daily sacrificed by hecatombs to the genius of monarchy. The
seeds of reason and truth become barren and unproductive
in this unwholesome climate. And the example perpetually ex-
hibited, of the preference of wealth and craft over integrity and
talents, produces the most powerful effects upon that mass of
mankind, who at first sight may appear least concerned in the
objects of generous ambition. This mischief, to whatever it
amounts, becomes more strongly fastened upon us, under a good
monarch, than under a bad one. In the latter case, it only
restrains our efforts by violence ; in the former, it seduces our
understandings. To palliate the defects and skin over the de-
formity of what is fundamentally wrong, is certainly very peril-
ous, perhaps very fatal to the best interests of mankind.
Meanwhile the ideas here suggested, should be listened to with
diffidence and caution. Great doubts may well be entertained,
respecting that benefit which is to be produced by vice and
calamity. If I lived under an elective monarchy, I certainly
should not venture to give my vote to a fickle, intemperate or
stupid candidate, in preference to a sober and moderate one.
Yet may it not happen that a succession, such as that of Trajan,
Adrian, and the Antonines, familiarising men to despotism, and
preparing them to submit to the tyranny of their successors, may
be fraught with more mischief than benefit ? It should seem-
that a mild and insiduous way, of reconciling mankind to a
calamity, before they are made to feel it, is a real and a heavy
misfortune.
A question has been started, whether it be possible to blend
elective and hereditary monarchy, and the constitution of Eng-
land has been cited as an example of this possibility. What was
it that the parliament effected at the revolution, and when they
settled the succession upon the house of Hanover ? They elected
not an individual, but a new race of men to fill the throne of
these kingdoms. They gave a practical instance of their power,
upon extraordinary emergencies, to change the succession. At
32 OF LIMITED MONARCHY.
tlie same time however that they effected this in action, they
denied it in -words. They employed the strongest expressions
that language could furnish, to bind themselves, their heirs and
posterity, for ever, to adhere to this settlement. They considered
the present as an emergence, which, taking into the account the
precautions and restrictions they had provided, could never occur
again.
In reality what sort of sovereignty is that, which is partly
hereditary, and partly elective ? That the accession of a family,
or race of men, should originally be a matter of election, has
nothing particular in it. All government is founded in opinion ;
and undoubtedly some sort of election, made by a body of
electors more or less extensive, originated every new establish-
ment. To whom, in this amphibious government, does the
sovereignty belong, upon the death of the first possessor ? To
his heirs and descendants. What sort of choice shall that be
considered, which is made of a man half a century before he
begins to exist ? By what designation does he succeed ? Un-
doubtedly by that of hereditary descent. A king of England
therefore holds his crown independently, or, as it has been
energetically expressed, "in contempt," of the choice of the
people.*
CHAP VIII.
OF LIMITED MONARCHY.
Liable to most of the preceding objections to further objections peculiar
to itself. Responsibility considered. Maxim, that the king can do
no wrong. Functions of a limited monarch. Impossibility of main-
taining the neutrality required. Of the dismission of ministers.
Responsibility of ministers Appointment of ministers, its im-
portance its difficulties. Recapitulation. Strength and weakness
of the human species.
I PROCEED to consider monarchy, not as it exists in countries
where it is unlimited and despotic, but, as in certain instances
it has appeared, a branch merely of the general constitution.
Here it is only necessary to recollect the objections which
applied to it in its unqualified state, in order to perceive that they
bear upon it, with the same explicitness, if not with equal force,
under every possible modification. Still the government is
founded in falsehood, affirming that a certain individual is emi-
nently qualified for an important situation, whose qualifications
* This argument is stated, with great copiousness, and irresistible force of
reasoning, by Mr. Burke, towards the beginning of his Reflections on the
Kevolution in France.
OF LIMITED MONARCHY. 33
are perhaps scarcely superior to those of the meanest member of
the community. Still the government is founded in injustice,
because it raises one man, for a permanent duration, over the
heads of the rest of the community, not for any moral recommend-
ation he possesses, but arbitrarily and by accident. Still it reads
a constant and powerful lesson of immorality to the people at
large, exhibiting pomp, and splendour, and magnificence, instead
of virtue, as the index to general veneration and esteem. The
individual is, not less than in the most absolute monarchy, un-
fitted by his education to become either respectable or useful.
He is unjustly and cruelly placed in a situation that engenders
ignorance, weakness, and presumption, after having been stripped
in his infancy of all the energies that should defend him against
their inroads. Finally, his existence implies that of a train of
courtiers, and a series of intrigue, of servility, secret influence,
capricious partialities, and pecuniary corruption. So true is the
observation of Montesquieu, that "we must not expect, under a
monarchy, to find the people virtuous."*
But, if we consider the question more narrowly, we shall per-
haps find, that limited monarchy has other absurdities and vices,
which are peculiarly its own. In an absolute sovereignty, the
king may, if he please, be his own minister ; but, in a limited one,
a ministry and a cabinet are essential parts of the constitution. In
an absolute sovereignty, princes are acknowledged to be responsi-
ble only to God ; but, in a limited one, there is a responsibility
of a very different nature. In a limited monarchy, there are
checks, one branch of the government counteracting the excesses
of another, and a check without responsibility, is the most flagrant
contradiction.
There is no subject that deserves to be more maturely con-
sidered, than this of responsibility. To be responsible, is to be
liable to be called into an open judicature, where the accuser and
the defendant produce their allegations and evidence on equal
terms. Everything short of this, is mockery. Everything that
would give to either party any other influence than that of truth
and virtue, is subversive of the great ends of justice. He that is
arraigned of any crime, must descend, a private individual, to the
level plain of justice. If he can bias the sentiments of his judges
by his possession of power, or by any compromise previous to his
resignation, or by the mere sympathy excited in his successors,
who will not be severe in their censures, lest they should be
treated with severity in return, he cannot truly be said to be re-
sponsible. From the honest insolence of despotism we may per-
haps promise ourselves better effects, than from the hypocritical
disclaimers of a limited government. Nothing can be more per-
nicious than falsehood, and no falsehood can be more palpable,
than that which pretends to put a weapon into the hands of the
* "II n'est pas rare qu'il y ait des princes vertueux ; mats il ett Ires
difficile dam une monarchic que le jicuple le soil." Esprit des Loix,
Lin. III., Chap. c.
ly. VOL. II. D
34 OF LIMITED MONARCHY.
general interest, which constantly proves blunt and powerless in
the very act to strike.
It was a confused feeling of these truths, that introduced into
limited monarchies the principle " that the king can do no wrong."
Observe the peculiar consistency of this proceeding. Consider
what a specimen it affords of plain dealing, frankness, and ingenu-
ous sincerity. An individual is first appointed, and endowed with
the most momentous prerogatives ; and then it is pretended that,
not he, but other men, are answerable for the abuse of these pre-
rogatives. This pretence may appear tolerable to men bred
among the fictions of law; but justice, truth, and virtue, revolt
from it with indignation.
Having first invented this fiction, it becomes the business of
such constitutions, as nearly as possible, to realise it. A ministry
must be regularly formed ; they must concert together ; and the
measures they execute, must originate in their own discretion.
The king must be reduced, as nearly as possible, to a cypher. So
far as he fails to be completely so, the constitution must be
imperfect.
What sort of figure is it that this miserable wretch exhibits in
the face of the world ? Everything is, with great parade, trans-
acted in his name. He assumes all the inflated and oriental
Style which has been already described,* and which indeed was,
upon that occasion, transcribed from the practice of a limited
monarchy. We find him like Pharaoh's frogs, " in our houses,
and upon our beds, in our ovens, and our kneading troughs."
Now observe the man himself, to whom all this importance is
annexed. To be idle, is the abstract of his duties. He is paid
an immense revenue only to hunt and to eat, to wear a scarlet
robe and a crown. He may not choose any one of his measures.
He must listen with docility to the consultations of his ministers,
and sanction, with a ready assent, whatever they determine. He
must not hear any other advisers ; for they are his known and
constitutional counsellors. He must not express to any man his
opinion ; for that would be a sinister and unconstitutional interfe-
rence. To be absolutely perfect, he must have no opinion, but be
the vacant and colourless mirror by which theirs is reflected. He
speaks ; for they have taught him what he should say : he
affixes his signature ; for they inform him that it is necessary
and proper.
A limited monarchy, in the articles we have described, might
be executed with great facility and applause, if a king were, what
such a constitution endeavours to render him, a mere puppet
regulated by pullies and wires. But it is among the most egre-
gious and palpable of all political mistakes, to imagine that we can
reduce a human being to this neutrality and torpor. He will not
exert any useful and true activity, but he will be far from passive.
The more he is excluded from that energy that characterises wis-
* Sec above Chap. YI. p. 24.
OF LIMITED MONARCHY. 35
dom and virtue, the more depraved and unreasonable will he be
in his caprices. Is any promotion vacant, and do we expect that
he will never think of bestowing it on a favourite, or of proving,
by an occasional election of his own, that he really exists ? This
promotion may happen to be of the utmost importance to the
public welfare ; or, if not every promotion unmeritedly given, is
pernicious to national virtue, and an upright minister will refuse
to assent to it. A king does not fail to hear his power and prero-
gatives extolled, and he will no doubt at some time wish to essay
their reality, in an unprovoked war against a foreign nation, or
against his own citizens.
To suppose that a king and his ministers should, through a
period of years, agree in their genuine sentiments upon every
public topic is what human nature in no degree authorises. This
is to attribute to the king talents, equal to those of the most en-
lightened statesmen of his age, or at least to imagine him capable
of understanding all their projects, and comprehending all their
views. It is to suppose him unspoiled by education, undebauched
by rank, and with a mind disposed to receive the impartial lessons
of truth.
" But if they disagree, the king can choose other ministers."
We shall presently have occasion to consider this prerogative in a
general view ; let us for the present examine it, in its application to
the differences that may occur, between the sovereign and his
servants. It is an engine for ever suspended over the heads of
the latter, to persuade them to depart from the singleness of their
integrity. The compliance that the king demands from them, is
perhaps, at first but small; and the minister, strongly pressed,
thinks it better to sacrifice his opinion, in this inferior point, than
to sacrifice his office. One compliance of this sort leads on to
another, and he that began, perhaps only with the preference of
an unworthy candidate tor distinction, ends with the most atro-
cious political guilt. The more we consider this point, the greater
will its magnitude appear. It will rarely happen but that the
minister will be more dependent for his existence on the king,
than the king upon his minister. When it is otherwise, there
will be a mutual compromise, and both in turn, will part with
everything that is firm, generous, independent, and honourable in
man.
And, in the mean time, what becomes of responsibility ? The
measures are mixed and confounded as to their source, beyond the
power of human ingenuity to unravel. Responsibility is, in reality
impossible. " Far otherwise," cries the advocate of monarchical
government; "it is true that the measures are partly those of the
king and partly those of the minister ; but the minister is respon-
sible for all." Where is the justice of that ? It were better to
leave guilt wholly without censure, than to condemn a man for
crimes of which he is innocent. In this case the grand criminal
escapes with impunity, and the severity of the law falls wholly
upon his coadjutors. The coadjutors receive that treatment
D 2
36 OF LIMITED MONARCHY.
which constitutes the essence of all bad policy ; punishment is
profusely menaced against them, and antidote is wholly forgotten.
They are propelled to vice by irresistible temptations, the love of
power, and the desire to retain it; and then censured with a
rigour altogether disproportioned to their fault. The vital prin-
ciples of the society is tainted with injustice ; and the same neg-
lect of equity and partial respect of persons will extend itself over
the whole.
I proceed to consider that prerogative in limited monarchy,
which, whatever others may be given or denied, is inseparable
from its substance, the prerogative of the king to nominate to
public offices. If anything be of importance, surely this must be
of importance, that such a nomination be made with wisdom and
integrity, that the fittest persons be appointed to the highest trusts
the state has to confer, that an honest and generous ambition be
cherished, and that men who shall most ardently qualify them-
selves for the care of the public welfare, be secure of having the
largest share in its superintendence.
This nomination is a most arduous task, and requires the
wariest circumspection. It falls, more accurately than any other
affair of political society, within the line of a pure, undefinable
discretion. In other cases, the path of rectitude seems visible and
distinct. Justice in the contests of individuals, justice in questions
of peace and war, justice in the establishment of maxims of judi-
cature, will not perhaps obstinately withdraw itself from the
research of an impartial and judicious inquirer. But to observe
the various portions of capacity scattered through a nation, and
minutely to weigh the qualifications of multiplied candidates,
must, after all our accuracy, be committed to some degree of
uncertainty.
The first difficulty that occurs, is to discover those whom
genius and ability have made, in the best sense, candidates for
the office. Ability is not always intrusive ; talents are often to
be found in the remoteness of a village, or the obscurity of a
garret. And, though self-consciousness and self-possession are,
to a certain degree, the attributes of genius, yet there are many
things beside false modesty, that may teach its possessor to shun
the air of a court.
Of all men a king is least qualified to penetrate these recesses,
and discover merit in its hiding place. Encumbered with forms,
he cannot mix at large in the society of his species. He is too
much engrossed with the semblance of business, or a succession
of amusements, to have leisure for such observations, as should
afford a just estimate of men's characters. In reality, the task is
too mighty for any individual, and the benefit can only be secured
through the mode of election.
Other disadvantages, attendant on this prerogative of choosing
his own ministers, it is needless to enumerate. If enough have
not been already said, to explain the character of a monarch, as
growing out of the functions with which he is invested, a laboured
OP LIMITED MONARCHY. 37
repetition in this place, would be both tedious and useless. If
there be any dependence to be placed upon the operation of
moral causes, a king will, in almost every instance, be found
among the most undiscriminating, the most deceived, the least
informed, and the least heroically disinterested of mankind.
Such then is the genuine and uncontrovertible scene of a mixed
monarchy. An individual placed at the summit of the edifice,
the centre and the fountain of honour, and who is neutral, or
must seem neutral, in the current transactions of his goverment.
This is the first lesson of honour, virtue, and truth, which mixed
monarchy reads to its subjects. Next to the king, come his ad-
ministration, and the tribe of courtiers; men driven by a fatal
necessity, to be corrupt, intriguing, and venal ; selected for their
trust by the most ignorant and ill-formed inhabitant of the realm ;
made solely accountable for measures of which they cannot
solely be the authors ; threatened, if dishonest, with the vengeance
of an injured people ; and, if honest, with the surer vengeance of
their sovereign's displeasure. The rest of the nation, the subjects
at large
Was ever name so fraught with degradation and meanness as
this of subjects ? I am, it seems, by the very place of my birth,
become a subject. A subject I know I ought to be, to the laws
of justice; a subject I know I am, to the circumstances and
emergencies under which I am placed. But to be the subject of
an individual, of a being with the same form, and the same im-
perfections as myself; how much must the human mind be
degraded, how much must its grandeur and independence be
emasculated, before I can learn to think of this with patience,
with indifference, nay, as some men do, with pride and exulta-
tion ? Such is the idol that monarchy worships, in lieu of the
divinity of truth, and the sacred obligation of public good. It is
of little consequence whether we vow fidelity to the king and the
nation, or to the nation and the king, so long as the king intrudes
himself to tarnish and undermine the true simplicity, the altar of
virtue.
Are mere names beneath our notice, and will they produce no
sinister influence upon the mind ? May we bend the knee before
the shrine of vanity and folly without injury? Far otherwise
Mind had its beginning in sensation, and it depends upon words
and symbols for the progress of its associations. The truly good
man must not only have a heart resolved, but a front erect. We
cannot practise abjection, hypocrisy, and meanness, without be-
coming degraded in other men's eyes and in our own. We can-
not "bow the head in the temple of Rimmon," without in some
degree apostatising from the divinity of truth. He that calls
a king a man, will perpetually hear from his own mouth the
lesson, that he is unfit for the trust reposed in him : he that calls
him by any sublimer appellation, is hastening fast into the gross-
est and most dangerous errors.
But perhaps " mankind are so weak and imbecile, that it is in
38 OF A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS.
vain to expect, from the change of their institutions, the improve-
ment of their character." Who made them weak and imbecile ?
Previously to human institutions and human society, they had
certainly none of this defect. Man, considered in himself, is
merely a being capable of impression, a recipient of perceptions.
What is there in this abstract character, that precludes him from
advancement ? We have a faint discovery in individuals at pre-
sent, of what our nature is capable : why should individuals
be fit for so much, and the species for nothing ? Is there any-
thing in the structure of the globe, that forbids us to be virtuous ?
If not, if nearly all our impressions of right and wrong flow from
our intercourse with each other, why may not that intercourse be
susceptible of modification and amendment? It is the most
cowardly of all systems, that would represent the discovery of
truth as useless, and teach us that, when discovered, it is our
wisdom to leave the mass of our species in error.
There is, in reality, little room for scepticism respecting the
omnipotence of truth. Truth is the pebble in the lake ; and,
however slowly, in the present case, the circles succeed each
other, they will infallibly go on, till they overspread the surface.
No order of mankind will for ever remain ignorant of the princi-
ples of justice, equality, and public good. No sooner will they
understand them, than they will perceive the coincidence of
virtue and public good with private interest: nor will any
erroneous establishment be able effectually to support itself
against general opinion. In this contest sophistry will vanish,
and mischievous institutions sink quietly into neglect. Truth
will bring down all her forces, mankind will be her army, and
oppression, injustice, monarchy, and vice, will tumble into a
common ruin.
CHAP IX.
OF A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS.
Enumeration of powers that of appointing to inferior offices of par-
doning offences of convoking deliberative assemblies of affixing a
veto to their decrees. Conclusion. The title of king estimated.
Monarchical and aristocraticai systems, similarity of their effects.
STILL monarchy it seems has one refuge left. " We will not,"
say some men, "have an hereditary monarchy, we acknowledge
that to be an enormous injustice. We are not contented with an
elective monarchy, we are not contented with a limited one.
We admit the office however reduced, if the tenure be for life, to
be an intolerable grievance. But why not have kings, as we
have magistrates and legislative assemblies, renewable by fre-
OF A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS. 39
quent elections ? We may then change the holder of the office as
often as we please."
Let us not be seduced by a mere plausibility of phrase, nor em-
ploy words without having reflected on their meaning. What
are we to understand by the appellation, a king ? If the office
have any meaning, it seems reasonable that the man who holds
it, should possess the privilege, either of appointing to certain
employments at his own discretion, or of remitting the decrees of
criminal justice, or of convoking and dismissing popular assem-
blies, or of affixing and refusing his sanction to the decrees
of those assemblies. Most of these privileges may claim a
respectable authority, in the powers delegated to their president
by the United States of America.
Let us however bring these ideas to the touchstone of reason.
Nothing can appear more adventurous, than the reposing, unless
in cases of absolute necessity, the decision of any affair of im-
portance to the public, in the breast of one man. But this
necessity will scarcely be alleged in any of the articles just
enumerated. What advantage does one man possess, over a
society or council of men, in any of these respects ? The disad-
vantages under which he labours are obvious. He is more easily
corrupted, and more easily misled. He cannot possess so many
advantages for obtaining accurate information. He is abundantly
more liable to the attacks of passion and caprice, of unfounded
antipathy to one man and partiality to another, of uncharitable
censure or blind idolatry. He cannot be always upon his guard ;
there will be moments in which the most exemplary vigilance is
liable to surprise. Meanwhile, we are placing the subject in
much too favourable a light. We are supposing his intentions to
be upright and just ; but the contrary of this will be more fre-
quently the truth. Where powers, beyond the capacity of human
nature, are intrusted, vices, the disgrace of human nature,
will be engendered. Add to this, that the same reasons,
which prove that government, wherever it exists, should be
directed by the sense of the people at large, equally prove that,
wherever public officers are necessary, the sense of the whole, or
of a body of men most nearly approaching in spirit to the whole,
ought to decide on their pretensions.
These objections are applicable to the most innocent of $ie
privileges above enumerated, that of appointing to the exercise of
certain employments. The case will be still worse, if we con-
sider the other privileges. We shall have occasion hereafter to
examine the propriety of pardoning offences, considered inde-
pendently of the persons in whom that power is vested : but, in
the mean time, can anything be more intolerable, than for an in-
dividual to be authorised, without assigning a reason, or assigning
a reason upon which no one is allowed to pronounce, to supersede
the grave decisions of a court of justice, founded upon a careful
and public examination of evidence? Can anything be more
unjust, than for an individual to assume the function of informing
40 OP A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS.
a nation, when they are to deliberate, and when they are to
cease from deliberation ?
The remaining privilege is of too iniquitous a nature to be an
object of much terror. It is not in the compass of credibility to
conceive, that any people would remain quiet spectators, while
the sense of one man was, openly and undisguisedly, set against
the sense of the national representative in frequent assembly, and
suffered to overpower it. Two or three direct instances of the exer-
cise of this negative, could not fail to annihilate it. Accordingly,
wherever it is supposed to exist, we find it softened and nourished
by the genial dew of pecuniary corruption; either rendered
unnecessary beforehand, by a sinister application to the frailty
of individual members, or disarmed and made palatable in the
sequel, by a copious effusion of venal emollients. If it can
in any case be endured, it must be in countries, where the
degenerate representative no longer possesses the sympathy of the
public, and the haughty president is made sacred, by the blood of
an exalted ancestry which flows through his veins, or the holy
oil which the representatives of the Most High have poured on
his head. A common mortal, periodically selected by his fellow-
citizens to watch over their interests, can never be supposed to
possess this stupendous virtue.
If there be any truth in these reasonings, it inevitably follows
that there are no important functions of general superintendence,
which can justly be delegated to a single individual. If the office
of a president be necessary, either in a deliberate assembly, or an
administrative council, supposing such a council to exist, his em-
ployment will have relation to the order of their proceedings, and
l>y no means consist in the arbitrary preferring and carrying into
effect, his private decision. A king, if unvarying usage can give
meaning to a word, describes a man, upon whose single discretion
some part of the public interest is made to depend. What use
can there be for such a man in an unperverted and well ordered
state ? With respect to its internal affairs, certainly none. How
far the office can be of advantage, in our transactions with foreign
governments, we shall hereafter have occasion to decide.
Let us beware, by an unjustifiable perversion of terms, of con-
founding the common understanding of mankind. A king is the
well known and standing appellation for an office, which, if there
be any truth in the arguments of the preceding chapters, has been
the bane and the grave of human virtue. Why endeavour to
purify and exorcise what is entitled only to execration ? Why
not suffer the term to be as well understood, and as cordially de-
tested, as the once honourable appellation of tyrant aftenvards
was among the Greeks ? Why not suffer it to rest a perpetual
monument of the folly, the cowardice, and misery of our species ?
IN proceeding, from the examination of monarchical, to that of
aristocratical government, it is impossible not to remark, that
there are several disadvantages common to both. One of these is
OP A PRESIDENT WITH REGAL POWERS. 41
the creation of a separate interest. The benefit of the governed
is made to lie on one side, and the benefit of the governors on the
other. It is to no purpose to say that individual interest, accu-
rately understood, will always be found to coincide with general,
if it appear in practice, that the opinions and errors of mankind,
are perpetually separating them, and placing them in opposition
to each other. The more the governors are fixed in a sphere
distinct and distant from the governed, the more will this error
be cherished. Theory, in order to produce an adequate effect
upon the mind, should be favoured, not counteracted, by practice.
What principle in human nature is more universally confessed,
than self-love, that is, than a propensity to think individually of
a private interest, to discriminate and divide objects, which the
laws of the universe have indissolubly united ? None, unless it
be the esprit de corps, the tendency of bodies of men to aggran-
dise themselves, a spirit, which, though less ardent than self-love,
is still more vigilant, and not exposed to the accidents of sleep,
indisposition, and mortality. Thus it appears that, of all impulses
to a narrow, self-interested conduct, those afforded by monarchy
and aristocracy are the greatest.
Nor must we be too hasty and undistinguishing in applying the
principle, that individual interest, accurately understood, will al-
ways be found to coincide with general. Relatively to individuals,
considered as men, it is. for the most part, certainly true ; rela-
tively to individuals, considered as lords and kings, it is false.
The man will perhaps be served, by the sacrifice of all his little
peculium to the public interest, but the king will be annihilated.
The first sacrifice that justice demands, at the hand of monarchy
and aristocracy, is that of their immunities and prerogatives.
Public interest dictates the unlimited dissemination of truth, and
the impartial administration of justice. Kings and lords subsist
only under favour of error and oppression. They will therefore
resist the progress of knowledge and illumination ; the moment
the deceit is dispelled, their occupation is gone.
In thus concluding however, we are taking for granted, that
aristocracy will be found an arbitrary and pernicious institution,
as monarchy has already appeared to be. It is time that we should
enquire in what degree this is actually the case.
42 OF HEREDITARY DISTINCTION.
CHAP. X.
OF HEREDITARY DISTINCTION.
Birth considered as a physical cause as a moral cause. Education of
the great. Recapitulation.
A PRINCIPLE deeply interwoven with both monarchy and aristo-
cracy in their most flourishing state, but most deeply with the
latter, is that of hereditary pre-eminence. No principle can
present a deeper insult upon reason and justice. Examine the
new-born son of a peer, and of a mechanic. Has nature desig-
nated in different lineaments their future fortune ? Is one of
them born with callous hands and an ungainly form ? Can you
trace in the other the early promise of genius and understanding,
of virtue and honour ? We have been told indeed " that nature
will break out,"* and that
" The eaglet of a valiant nest will quickly tower
Up to the region of his sire ;"*
and the tale was once believed. But mankind will not soon
again be persuaded, that the birthright of one lineage of human
creatures is beauty and virtue, and of another, dulness, grossness,
and deformity.
It is difficult accurately to decide, how much of the characters
of men is produced, by causes that operated upon them in the
period preceding their birth, and how much is the moral effect of
education, in its extensive sense. Children certainly bring into
the world with them a part of the character of their parents ;
nay, it is probable that the human race is meliorated, somewhat
in the same way as the races of brutes, and that every generation,
in a civilised state, is further removed, in its physical structure,
from the savage and uncultivated man.
But these causes operate too uncertainly to afford any just basis
of hereditary distinction. If a child resembles his father in
many particulars, there are particulars, perhaps more numerous
and important, in which he differs from him. The son of a poet
is not a poet, the son of an orator is not an orator, nor the son of a
good man a-saint ; and yet, in this case, a whole volume of moral
causes, is often brought to co-operate with the physical. This
has been aptly illustrated, by a proposition, humorously suggest-
ed,f for rendering the office of poet laureat hereditary. But, if
the qualities and dispositions of the father were found descendible
in the son, in a much greater degree than we have any reason to
suppose, the character must be expected to wear out in a few
generations, either by the mixture of breeds, or by, what there is
great reason to suppose is still more pernicious, the want of mix-
ture. The title made hereditary, will then remain, a brand upon
* Tragedy of Douglas, Act iii. t Paine's Eights ofMan.
OF HEREDITARY DISTINCTION. 43
the degenerate successor. It is not satire, but a simple statement
of fact, when we observe, that it is not easy to find a set of men
in society, sunk more below the ordinary standard of man in his
constituent characteristics, than the body of the English, or any
other peerage.
Let us proceed to enquire into the efficacy of high birth and
nobility, considered as a moral cause.
The persuasion of its excellence in this respect, is an opinion
probably as old as the institution of nobility itself. The ety-
mology of the word expressing this particular form of government,
may perhaps be considered as having a reference to this idea.
It is called aristocracy, or the government of the best [aptsoi].
In the writings of Cicero, and the speeches of the Roman senate,
this order of men, is styled the " optimates," the " virtuou&" the
"liberal," and the "honest." It is asserted, and with some de-
gree of justice, "that the multitude is an unruly beast, with no
fixed sentiments of honour or principle, guided by sordid venality,
or not less sordid appetite, envious, tyrannical, inconstant, and
unjust." Hence they deduced as a consequence, "the necessity
of maintaining an order of men of liberal education and elevated
sentiments, who should either engross the government of the
humbler and more numerous class incapable of governing them-
selves, or at least should be placed as a rigid guard upon their
excesses, with powers adequate to their correction and restraint."
The greater part of these reasonings will fall under our examina-
tion, when we consider the disadvantages of democracy.* So
much as relates to the excellence of aristocracy it is necessary at
present to discuss.
The whole proceeds upon a supposition that, " if nobility should
not, as its hereditary constitution might seem to imply, be found
originally superior to the ordinary rate of mortals, it is at least
rendered eminently so by the power of education. Men, who
grow up in unpolished ignorance and barbarism, and are chilled
with the icy touch of poverty, must necessarily be exposed to a
thousand sources of corruption, and cannot have that delicate
sense of rectitude and honour, which literature and manly refine-
ment are found to bestow. It is under the auspices of indulgence
and ease, that civilisation is engendered. A nation must have
surmounted the disadvantages of a first establishment, and have
arrived at some degree of leisure and prosperity, before the love
of letters can take root among them. It is in individuals, as in
large bodies of men. A few exceptions will occur ; but, ex-
cluding these, it can scarcely be expected, that men, who are
compelled in every day, by laborious manual efforts to provide for
the necessities of the day, should arrive at great expansion of
mind and comprehensiveness of thinking."
In certain parts of this argument there is considerable truth.
The sound moralist, will be the last man to deny the power and
* Chap. XIV.
44 OF HEREDITARY DISTINCTION.
importance of education. It is therefore necessary, either that a
system should be discovered for securing leisure and prosperity to
every member of the community ; or that a certain influence and
authority shoiild be given to the liberal and the wise, over the
illiterate and ignorant. Now, supposing, for the present, that the
former of these measures is impossible, it may yet be reasonable
to enquire whether aristocracy be the most judicious scheme for
obtaining the latter. Some light may be collected on this subject,
from what has already appeared respecting education under the
head of monarchy.
Education is much, but opulent education is of all its modes
the least efficacious. The education of words is not to be des-
pised, but the education of things is on no account to be dispensed
with. The former is of admirable use in enforcing and developing
the latter ; but, when taken alone, it is pedantry and not learning,
a body without a soul. Whatever maybe the abstract perfection
of which mind is capable, we seem at present frequently to need
being excited, in the case of any uncommon effort, by motives
that address themselves to the individual. But, so far as relates
to these motives, the lower classes of mankind, had they sufficient
leisure, have greatly the advantage. The plebeian must be the
maker of his own fortune ; the lord finds his already made. The
plebeian must expect to find himself neglected and despised, in
proportion as he is remiss in cultivating the objects of esteem ;
the lord will always be surrounded with sycophants and slaves.
The lord therefore has no motive to industry and exertion ; no
stimulus to rouse him from the lethargic, "oblivious pool," out
of which every human intellect originally rose. It must indeed
be confessed, that truth does not need the alliance of circum-
stances, and that a man may arrive at the temple of fame, by
other paths than those of misery and distress. But the lord does
not content himself with discarding the stimulus of adversity ;
he goes further than this, and provides fruitful sources of effe-
minacy and error. Man cannot offend with impunity against the
great principle of universal good. He that monopolises to him-
self luxuries and titles and wealth to the injury of the whole,
becomes degraded from the rank of man ; and, however he may
be admired by the multitude, will be pitied by the wise, and not
seldom be wearisome to himself. Hence it appears, that to elect
men to the rank of nobility, is to elect them to a post of moral
danger and a means of depravity ; but that to constitute them
hereditarily noble, is to preclude them, exclusively of a few
extraordinary accidents, from all the causes that generate ability
and virtue.
The reasonings here repeated upon the subject of hereditary
distinction, are so obvious, that nothing can be a stronger instance
of the power of prejudice instilled in early youth, than the fact of
their having been, at any time, disputed or forgotten. From
birth as a physical cause, it sufficiently appears that little funda-
mental or regular can be expected : and, so far as relates to edu-
MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY. 45
cation, it is practicable, in a certain degree, nor is it easy to set
limits to that degree, to infuse emulation into a youthful mind ;
but wealth is the fatal blast that destroys the hopes of a future
harvest. There was once indeed a gallant kind of virtue, that, by
irresistibly seizing the senses, seemed to communicate extensively,
to young men of birth, the mixed and equivocal accomplishments
of chivalry ; but, since the subjects of moral emulation have been
turned, from personal prowess, to the energies of intellect,
and especially since the field of that emulation has been more
widely opened to the species, the lists have been almost uniformly
occupied by those, whose narrow circumstances have goaded
them to ambition, or whose undebauched habits and situation in
life, have rescued them from the poison of flattery and effeminate
indulgence.
CHAPTER XI.
MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY.
Nature of aristocracy. Importance of practical justice. Species of
injustice which aristocracy creates. Estimate of the injury produced.
Examples.
THE features of aristocratical institution are principally two ;
privilege, and an aggravated monopoly of wealth. The first
of these is the essence of aristocracy ; the second, that without
which aristocracy can rarely be supported. They are both, of
them in direct opposition to all sound morality, and all generous
independence of character.
Inequality of wealth is perhaps the necessary result of the insti-
tution of property, in any state of progress at which the human
mind has yet arrived ; and cannot, till the character of the human
species is essentially altered, be superseded, but by a despotic and
positive interference, more injurious to the common welfare, than
the inequality it attempted to remove. Inequality of wealth
involves with it inequality of inheritance.
But the mischief of aristocracy is, that it inexpressibly aggra-
vates and embitters an evil, which, in its mildest form, is deeply
to be deplored. The first sentiment of an uncorrupted mind,
when it enters upon the theatre of human life, is, Remove from
me and my fellows all arbitrary hindrances ; let us start fair ;
render all the advantages and honours of social institution acces-
sible to every man, in proportion to his talents and exertions.
Is it true, as has often been pretended, that generous and ex-
alted qualities are hereditary in particular lines of descent ? They
do not want the alliance of positive institution, to secure to them
46 MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY.
their proper ascendency, and enable them to command the
respect of mankind. Is it false ? Let it share the fate of expo-
sure and detection with other impostures. If I conceived of
a young person that he was destined, from his earliest infancy, to
be a sublime poet, or a profound philosopher, should I conceive
that the readiest road to the encouraging and fostering his talents,
was, from the moment of his birth, to put a star upon his breast,
to salute him with titles of honour, and to bestow upon him,
independently of all exertion, those advantages which exertion
usually proposes to itself as its ultimate object of pursuit ? No ;
I should send him to the school of man, and oblige him to con-
verse with his fellows upon terms of equality.
Privilege is a regulation, rendering a few men, and those only
by the accident of their birth, eligible to certain situations.
It kills all liberal ambition in the rest of mankind, by opposing to
it an apparently insurmountable bar. It diminishes it in the
favoured class itself, by showing them the principal qualification
as indefeasibly theirs. Privilege entitles a favoured few to engross
to themselves gratifications, which the system of the universe
left at large to all her sons : it puts into the hands of these few,
the means of oppression against the rest of their species; it
fills them with vain glory, and affords them every incitement
to insolence and a lofty disregard to the feelings and interests
of others.
Privilege, as we have already said, is the essence of aristocracy ;
and, in a rare condition of human society, such as that of the ancient
Romans, privilege has been able to maintain itself without the
accession of wealth, and to flourish in illustrious poverty. But
this can be the case, only under a very singular coincidence of
circumstances. In general, an aggravated monopoly of wealth
has been one of the objects, about which the abettors of
aristocracy have been most incessantly solicitous. Hence the
origin of entails, rendering property, in its own nature too averse
to a generous circulation, a thousand times more stagnant and
putrescent than before ; of primogeniture, which disinherits every
other member of a family, to heap unwholesome abundance upon
one ; and of various limitations, filling the courts of civilised
Europe with endless litigation, and making it in many cases
impossible to decide, who it is that has the right of conveying
a property, and what shall amount to a legal transfer.
There is one thing, more than all the rest, of importance to the
well-being of mankind, justice. A neglect of justice is not only
to be deplored for the direct evil it produces; it is perhaps
still more injurious, by its effects, in perverting the under-
standing, overturning our calculations of the future, and thus
striking at the root of moral discernment, and genuine power and
decision of character.
Of all the principles of justice, there is none so material to the
moral rectitude of mankind, as that no man can be distinguished
but by his personal merit. When a man has proved himself
MORAL EFFECTS OF ARISTOCRACY. 47
a benefactor to the public, when he has already, by laudable per-
severance, cultivated in himself talents, which need only encour-
agement and public favour to bring them to maturity, let that
man be honoured. In a state of society where fictitious distinc-
tions are unknown, it is impossible ho should not be honoured.
But that a man should be looked up to with servility and awe,
because the king has bestowed on him a spurious name, or
decorated him with a ribband; that another should revel in
luxury, because his ancestor three centuries ago bled in the
quarrel of Lancaster or York ; do we imagine that these iniquities
can be practised without injury ?
Let those who entertain this opinion, converse a little with the
lower orders of mankind. They will perceive that the unfor-
tunate wretch, who, with unremitted labour, finds himself incapa-
ble adequately to feed and clothe his family, has a sense of
injustice rankling at his heart.
But let us suppose that their sense of injustice were less acute
than is here supposed, what favourable inference can be deduced
from that ? Is not the injustice real ? If the minds of men are
so withered and stupified by the constancy with which it is prac-
tised, that they do not feel the rigour that grinds them into
nothing, how does that improve the picture ?
Let us fairly consider, for a moment, what is the amount
of injustice included in the institution of aristocracy. -I am born,
suppose, a Polish prince with an income of 300,000 per annum.
You are born a manerial serf, or a Creolian negro, attached to the
soil, and transferable, by barter or otherwise, to twenty successive
lords. In vain shall be your most generous efforts, and your un-
wearied industry, to free yourself from the intolerable yoke.
Doomed, by the law of your birth, to wait at the gates of the
palace you must never enter ; to sleep under a ruined, weather-
beaten roof, while your master sleeps under canopies of state ; to
feed on putrified offals, while the world is ransacked for delicacies
for his table; to labour, without moderation or limit, under
a parching sun, while he basks in perpetual sloth; and to
be rewarded at last with contempt, reprimand, stripes, and muti-
lation. In fact the case is worse than this. I could endure
all that injustice or caprice could inflict, provided I possessed, in
the resource of a firm mind, the power of looking down with pity
on my tyrant, and of knowing that I had that within, that sacred
character of truth, virtue, and fortitude, which all his injustice
could not reach. But a slave and serf are condemned to stupidity
and vice, as well as to calamity.
Is all this nothing ? Is all this necessary for the maintenance
of civil order ? Let it be recollected that, for this distinction,
there is not the smallest foundation in the nature of things, that,
as we have already said, there is no particular mould for the con-
struction of lords, and that they are born neither better nor worse
than the poorest of their dependents. It is this structure of
aristocracy, in all its sanctuaries and fragments, against which
48 OF TITLES.
reason and morality have declared war. It is alike unjust,
whether we consider it in the castes of India ; the villainage
of the feudal system ; or the despotism of ancient Rome, where
the debtors were dragged into personal servitude, to expiate, by
stripes and slavery, the usurious loans they could not repay.
Mankind will never be, in an eminent degree, virtuous and happy,
lill each man shall possess that portion of distinction, and no
more, to which he is entitled by his personal merits. The disso-
lution of aristocracy is equally the interest of the oppressor
and the oppressed. The one will be delivered from the listless-
ness of tyranny, and the other from the brutalising operation
of servitude. How long shall we be told in vain, " that medio-
crity of fortune is the true rampart of personal happiness ?"
CHAP. XII.
OF TITLES.
Their origin and history. Their miserable absurdity. Truth the only
adequate reward of merit.
THE case of mere titles, is so absurd, that it would deserve to be
treated only with ridicule, were it not for the serious mischiefs
they impose on mankind. The feudal system was a ferocious
monster, devouring, wherever it came, all that the friend of
humanity regards with attachment and love. The system of
titles appears under a different form. The monster is at length
destroyed, and they who followed in his train, and fattened upon
the carcases of those he slew, have stuffed his skin, and, by
exhibiting it, hope still to terrify mankind into patience and
pusillanimity. The system of the northern invaders, however,
odious, escaped the ridicule of the system of titles. When the
feudal chieftains assumed a geographical appellation, it was from
some place really subject to their authority ; and there was no
more absurdity in the style they assumed, than in our calling a
man, at present, the governor of Tangiers or the governor of
Gibraltar. The commander-iri-chief, or the sovereign, did not
then give an empty name ; he conferred an earldom or a barony,
a substantial tract of land, with houses and men, and producing
a real revenue. He now grants nothing, but a privilege, equiva-
lent to that of calling yourself Tom, who were beforetime called
Will ; and, to add to the absurdity, your new appellation is bor-
rowed from some place, perhaps, you never saw, or some country
you never visited. The style however is the same ; we are still
earls and barons, governors of provinces and co'mmanders of
forts, and that with the same evident propriety, as the elector of
OF TITLES. 49
Hanover, and arch-treasurer of the empire, styles himself king of
France.
Can there be anything more ludicrous, than that the man, who
was yesterday Mr. St. John, the most eloquent speaker of the
British house of commons, the most penetrating thinker, the um-
pire of maddening parties, the restorer of peace to bleeding and
exhausted Europe, should be to-day Lord Bolingbroke ? In what
is he become greater and more venerable than he was ? In the
pretended favour of a stupid and besotted woman, who always
hated him, as she uniformly hated talents and virtue, though, for
her own interest, she was obliged to endure him.
The friends of a -man upon whom a title has recently been
conferred, must either be wholly blinded by the partiality of
friendship, not to feel the ridicule of his situation ; or completely
debased by the parasitical spirit of dependence, not to betray
their feelings. Every time they essay to speak, they are in danger
of blundering upon the inglorious appellations of Mr. and Sir."*
Every time their tongue falters with unconfirmed practice, the
question rushes upon them with irresistible force, " What change
has my old friend undergone; in what is he wiser or better,
happier or more honourable ?" The first week of a new title, is
a perpetual war of the feelings in every spectator ; the genuine dic-
tates of common sense, against the arbitrary institutions of society.
To make the farce more perfect, these titles are subject to perpetual
fluctuations, and the man who is to-day Earl of Kensington, will
to-morrow resign, with unblushing effrontery, all appearance of
character and honour, to be called Marquis of Kew. History
labours under the Gothic and unintelligible burden ; no mortal
patience can connect the different stories, of him who is to-day
Lord Kimbolton, and to-morrow Earl of Manchester; to day
Earl of Mulgrave, and to-morrow Marquis of Normanby and
Duke of Buckinghamshire.
The absurdity of these titles strikes us the more, because they
are usually the reward of intrigue and corruption. But, were it
otherwise, still they would be unworthy of the adherents of reason
and justice. When we speak of Mr. St. John, as of the man,
who by his eloquence swayed contending parties, who withdrew
the conquering sword from suffering France, and gave thirty
years of peace and calm pursuit of the arts of life and wisdom
to mankind, we speak of something eminently great. Can any
title express these merits? Is not truth the consecrated and
single vehicle of justice ? Is not the plain and simple truth
worth all the cunning substitutions in the world? Could an
oaken garland, or a gilded coronet, have added one atom to
his real greatness ? Garlands and coronets may be bestowed
on the unworthy, and prostituted to the intriguing. Till man-
kind be satisfied with the naked statement of what they really
* In reality these appellations are little leas absurd than those by which
they are superseded.
11'. VOL. II. E
50 OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.
perceive, till they confess virtue to be then most illustrious,
when she most disdains the aid of ornament, they will never
arrive at that manly justice of sentiment, at which they seem
destined one day to arrive. By this scheme of naked truth,
virtue will be every day a gainer; every succeeding observer
will more fully do her justice, while vice, deprived of that varnish
with which she delighted to gloss her actions, of that gaudy
exhibition which may be made alike by every pretender, will
speedily sink into unheeded contempt.
CHAP. XIII.
OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.
Intolerance of aristocracy dependent for its success upon the ignorance
of the multitude. Precautions necessary for its support. Different
kinds of aristocracy. Aristocracy of the Romans : its virtues its
vices. Aristocratical distribution of property regulations by which
it is maintained avarice it engenders. Argument against innova-
tion from the -present happy establishment of affairs considered.
Conclusion.
ARISTOCRACY, in its proper signification, is neither less nor more,
than a scheme for rendering more permanent and visible, by the
interference of political institution, the inequality of mankind.
Aristocracy, like monarchy, is founded in falsehood, the offspring
of art foreign to the real nature of things, and must therefore,
like monarchy, be supported by artifice and false pretences. Its
empire however, is founded in principles more gloomy and un-
social, than those of monarchy. The monarch often thinks it
advisable to employ blandishments and courtship with his barons
and officers ; but the lord deems it sufficient to rule with a rod
of iron.
Both depend for their perpetuity upon ignorance. Could they,
like Omar, destroy the productions of profane reasoning, and
persuade mankind that the Alcoran contained every tiling which
it became them to study, they might then renew their lease of
empire. But here again aristocracy displays its superior harsh-
ness. Monarchy admits of a certain degree of monkish learning
among its followers. But aristocracy holds a stricter hand.
Should the lower ranks of society once come to be generally
able to write and read, its power would be at an end. To make
men serfs and villains, it is indispensably necessary to make
them brutes. This is a question which has long been can-
vassed with eagerness and avidity. The resolute advocates of
the old system have, with no contemptible foresight, opposed the
communication of knowledge as a most alarming innovation. In
OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER. 51
their well known observation, "that a servant who has been
taught to write and read, ceases to be any longer the passive
machine they require," is contained the embryo, from which it
would be easy to explain the whole philosophy of European
society.
And who is there that can ponder with unruffled thoughts, the
injurious contrivances of these self-centred usurpers, contrivances,
the purpose of which is to retain the human species in a state of
endless degradation ? It is in the subjects we are here examining,
that the celebrated maxim of " many made for one," is brought
to the test. Those reasoners were, no doubt, " wise in their gene-
ration," who two centuries ago conceived alarm at the blas-
phemous doctrine, "that government was instituted for the
benefit of the governed, and, if it proposed to itself any other
object, was no better than an usurpation." It will perpetually be
found, that the men who in every age, have been the earliest to
give the alarm of innovation, and have been ridiculed on that
account as bigoted and timid, were, in reality, persons of more
than common discernment, who saw, though but imperfectly, in
the rude principle, the inferences to which it inevitably led. It is
time that men of reflection should choose between the two sides
of the alternative : either to go back, fairly and without reserve,
to the primitive principles of tyranny ; or, adopting any one of
the maxims opposite to these, however neutral it may at first
appear, not feebly and ignorantly to shut their eyes upon the
system of consequences it draws along with it.
It is not necessary to enter into a methodical disquisition of
the different kinds of aristocracy, since, if the above reasonings
have any force, they are equally cogent against them all. Aristo-
cracy may vest its prerogatives principally in the individual, as in
Poland ; or restrict them to the nobles in their corporate capacity,
as in Venice. The former will be more tumultuous and dis-
orderly; the latter more jealous, intolerant, and severe. The
magistrates may either recruit their body by election among
themselves, as in Holland ; or by the choice of the people, as in
ancient Rome.
The aristocracy of ancient Rome was incomparably the most
venerable and illustrious, that ever existed. It may not therefore
be improper to contemplate in them, the degree of excellence to
which aristocracy may be raised. They included in their institu-
tion some of the benefits of democracy, as, generally speaking,
no man became a member of the senate, but in consequence of
his being elected by the people to the superior magistracies. It
was reasonable therefore to expect, that the majority of the
members would possess some degree of capacity. They were
not like modern aristocratical assemblies, in which, as primo-
geniture, and not selection, decides upon their prerogatives, we
shall commonly seek in vain for capacity, except in a few of the
lords of recent creation. As the plebians were long restrained
frcm looking for candidates, except among the patricians, that is,
2
02 OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.
the posterity of senators, it was reasonable to suppose that the
most eminent talents would be confined to that order. A circum-
stance which contributed to this, was the monopoly of liberal
education and the cultivation of the mind, a monopoly which the
invention of printing has at length fully destroyed Accordingly,
all the great literary ornaments of Rome were either patricians,
or of the equestrian order, or their immediate dependents. The
plebians, though, in their corporate capacity, they possessed, for
some centuries, the virtues of sincerity, intrepidity, love of justice
and of the public, could scarcely boast of any of those individual
characters in their party that reflect lustre on mankind, except
the two Gracchi; while the patricians told of Brutus, Valerius,
Coriolanus, Cincinnatus, Camillus, Fabricius, Regulus, the Fabii,
the Decii, the Scipios, Lucullus, Marcellus. Cato, Cicero, and
innumerable others. With this retrospect continually suggested
to their minds, it was almost venial, for the stern heroes of Rome,
and the last illustrious martyrs of the republic, to entertain aris-
tocratical sentiments.
Let us however consider impartially this aristocracy, so superior
to any other of ancient or modern times. Upon the first institu-
tion of the republic, the people possessed scarcely any authority,
except in the election of magistrates, and even here their intrinsic
importance was eluded, by the mode of arranging the assembly,
so that the whole decision vested in the richer classes of the
community. No magistrates of any description, were elected,
but from among the patricians. All causes were judged by the
patricians, and from their judgment there was no appeal. The
patricians intermarried among themselves, and thus formed a
republic of narrow extent, in the midst of the nominal one, which
was held by them in a state of abject servitude. The idea which
purified these usurpations in the minds of the usurpers, was,
" that the vulgar are essentially coarse, grovelling, and ignorant,
and that there can be no security for the empire of justice and
consistency, but in the decided ascendancy of the liberal." Thus,
even while they opposed the essential interests of mankind, they
were animated with public spirit and an unbounded enthusiam of
virtue. But it is not less true, that they did oppose the essential
interests of mankind. What can be more memorable in this
respect, than the declamations of Appius Claudius, whether we
consider the moral greatness of mind by which they were dic-
tated, or the cruel intolerance they were intended to enforce ? It
is inexpressibly painful, to see so much virtue, through successive
ages, employed in counteracting the justest requisitions. The
result was, that the patricians, notwithstanding their immeasur-
able superiority in abilities, were obliged to resign, one by one,
the exclusions to which they clung. In the interval they were
led to have recourse to the most odious methods of opposition ;
and every man among them, contended who should be loudest
in applause of the nefarious murder of the Gracchi. If the
Romans were distinguished for so many virtues, constituted as
OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER. 53
they were, what might they not have been, but for the iniquity of
aristocratical usurpation ? The indelible blemish of their history,
the love of conquest, originated in the same cause. Their wars,
through every period of the republic, were nothing more, than
the contrivance of the patricians, to divert their countrymen from
attending to the sentiments of political truth, by leading them to
scenes of conquest and carnage. They understood the art, com-
mon to all governments, of confounding the understandings of
the multitude, and persuading them that the most unprovoked
hostilities were merely the dictates of necessary defence.
Aristocracy, as we have already seen, is intimately connected
with an extreme inequality of possessions. No man can be an
useful member of society, except so far as his talents are em-
ployed in a manner conducive to the general advantage. In every
society, the produce, the means of contributing to the necessities
and conveniences of its members, is of a certain amount. In
every society, the bulk at least of its members, contribute by their
personal exertions to the creation of this produce. What can be
more desirable and just, than that the produce itself should, with
some degree of equality, be shared among them ? What more
injurious, than the accumulating upon a few every means of su-
perfluity and luxury, to the total destruction of the ease, and
plain, but plentiful subsistence of the many ? It may be calculated
that die king, even of a limited monarchy, receives as the salary
of his office, an income equivalent to the labour of fifty thousand
men.* Let us set out in our estimate from this point, and figure
to ourselves the shares of his counsellors, his nobles, the wealthy
commoners by whom the nobility will be emulated, their kindred
and dependents. Is it any wonder that, in such countries, the
lower orders of the community are exhausted, by the hardships
of penury and immoderate fatigue ? When we see the wealth of
a province spread upon the preat man's table, can we be surprised
that his neighbours have not bread to satiate the cravings of
hunger ?
Is this a state of human beings that must be considered as the
last improvement of political wisdom ? In such a state it is
impossible that eminent virtue should not be exceedingly rare.
The higher and the lower classes will be alike corrupted by thcii'
unnatural situation. But to pass over the higher class for the
present, what can be more evident than the tendency of want to
contract the intellectual powers ? The situation which the wise
man would desire, for himself, and for those in whose welfare he-
was interested, would be a situation of alternate labour and re-
laxation, labour that should not exhaust the frame, and relaxation
lhat was in no danger of degenerating into indolence. Thus
industry and activity would be cherished, the frame preserved in
a healthful tone, and the mind accxistomed to meditation and im-
provement. But this would be the situation of the whole human
* Taking the average price of labour at one shilling per diem.
54 OF THE ARISTOCRATICAL CHARACTER.
species, if the supply of our wants were fairly distributed. Can,
any system be more worthy of disapprobation, than that which
converts nineteen-twentieths of them into beasts of burden, anni-
hilates so much thought, renders impossible so much virtue, and
extirpates so much happiness ?
But it may be alleged, " that this argument is foreign to the
subject of aristocracy; the inequality of conditions being the
inevitable consequence of the institution of property." It is true
that many disadvantages have hitherto flowed out of this institu-
tion, in the simplest form in which it has yet existed ; but these
disadvantages, to whatever they may amount, are greatly aggra-
vated by the operations of aristocracy. Aristocracy turns the
stream of property out of its natural course, in following which
it would not fail to fructify and gladden, in turn at least, every
division of the community ; and forwards, with assiduous care,
its accumulation in the hands of a very few persons.
At the same time that it has endeavoured to render the acquisi-
tion of permanent property difficult, aristocracy has greatly in-
creased the excitements to that acquisition. All men are accus-
tomed to conceive a thirst after distinction and pre-eminence, but
they do not all fix upon wealth as the object of this passion, but
variously upon skill in any particular art, grace, learning, talents,
wisdom, and virtue. Nor does it appear that these latter objects
are pursued by their votaries with less assiduity, than wealth is
pursued by those who are anxious to acquire it. Wealth would
be still less capable of being mistaken for the universal passion,
were it not rendered by political institution, more than by its
natural influence, the road to honour and respect.
There is no mistake more thoroughly to be deplored on this
subject, than that of persons, sitting at their ease and surrounded
with all the conveniences of life, who are apt to exclaim, " We
find things very well as they are ;" and to inveigh bitterly against
all projects of reform, as " the romances of visionary men, and
the declamations of those who are never to be satisfied." Is it
well, that so large a part of the community should be kept in
abject penury, rendered stupid with ignorance, and disgustful
with vice, perpetuated in nakedness and hunger, goaded to the
commission of crimes, and made victims to the merciless laws
which the rich have instituted to oppress them ? Is it sedition to
enquire, whether this state of things may not be exchanged for
a better ? Or can there be anything more disgraceful to ourselves,
than to exclaim that "All is well," merely because we are at
our ease, regardless of the misery, degradation, and vice, that may
be occasioned in others ?
It is undoubtedly a pernicious mistake which has insinuated
itself among certain reformers, that leads them to the per-
petual indulgence of acrimony and resentment, and renders
them too easily reconciled to projects of commotion and violence.
But, if we ought to be aware that mildness and an unbounded
philanthropy, are the most effectual instruments of public welfare,
GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY. 55
it does not follow, that we are to shut our eyes upon the calamities
that exist, or to cease from the most ardent aspirations for their
removal.
There is one argument to which the advocates of monarchy
and aristocracy always have recourse when driven from every
other pretence ; the mischievous nature of democracy. " How-
ever imperfect the two former of these institutions may be in them-
selves, they are found necessary," we are told, "as accommoda-
tions to the imperfection of human nature." It is for the reader
who has considered the arguments of the preceding chapters to
decide, how far it is probable that circumstances can occur, which
should make it our duty to submit to these complicated evils.
Meanwhile, let us proceed to examine that democracy, of which
so alarming a picture has usually been exhibited.
CHAP. XIV.
GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY.
Definition. Supposed evils of this form of government ascendancy of
the ignorant of the crafty inconstancy rish confidence ground-
less suspicion. Merits and defects of democracy compared. Its
moral tendency. Tendency of truth. Representation.
DEMOCRACY is a system of government, according to which every
member of society is considered as a man, and nothing more. So
far as positive regulation is concerned if indeed that can, with
any propriety, be termed regulation, which is the mere recognition
of the simplest of all moral principles, every man is regarded as
equal. Talents and wealth, wherever they exist, will not fail to
obtain a certain degree of influence, without requiring positive
institution to second their operation.
But there are certain disadvantages that may seem the neces-
sary result of democratical equality. In political society, it is
reasonable to suppose, that the wise will be outnumbered by the
unwise ; and it will be inferred, " that the welfare of the whole,
will therefore be at the mercy of ignorance and folly." It is true,
that the ignorant will generally be sufficiently willing to listen to
the judicious, "but their very ignorance will incapacitate them
from discerning the merit of their guides. The turbulent and.
crafty demagogue, will often possess greater advantages for in-
veigling their judgment, than the man who, with purer intentions,
may possess a less brilliant talent. Add to this, that the dema-
gogue has a never-failing resource in the ruling imperfection of
human nature, that of preferring the specious present to the sub-
stantial future. This is what is usually termed playing upon the
56 GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY.
passions of mankind. Politics have hitherto presented an enigma,
that all the wit of man has been insufficient to solve. Is it to be
supposed, that the uninstructed multitude should always be able
to resist the artful sophistry and captivating eloquence that may
be employed to perplex the subject with still further obscurity ?
Will it not often happen, that the schemes proposed by the am-
bitious disturber will possess a meretricious attraction, which the
severe and sober project of the discerning statesman shall be
unable to compensate ?
" One of the most fruitful sources of human happiness is to be
found in the steady and uniform operation of certain fixed princi-
ples. But it is the characteristic of a democracy to be wavering
and inconstant. The speculator only, who has deeply meditated
his principles, is inflexible in his adherence to them. The mass
of mankind, as they have never arranged their reflections into
system, are at the mercy of every momentary impulse, and liable
to change with every wind. But this inconstancy is directly the
reverse of political justice.
"Nor is this all. Democracy is a monstrous and unwieldy
vessel, launched upon the sea of human passions, without ballast.
Liberty, in this unlimited form, is in danger to be lost almost
as soon as it is obtained. The ambitious man finds nothing,
in this scheme of human affairs, to set bounds to his desires. He
has only to dazzle and deceive the multitude, in order to rise to
absolute power.
" A further ill consequence flows out of this circumstance. The
multitude, conscious of their weakness in this respect, will, in
proportion to their love of liberty and equality, be perpetually
suspicious and uneasy. Has any man displayed uncommon vir-
tues, or rendered eminent services to his country? He will
presently be charged with secretly aiming at the tyranny.
Various circumstances will come in aid of this accusation ; the
general love of novelty, envy of superior merit, and the incapacity
of the multitude to understand the motives and character of those
who excel them. Like the Athenian, they will be tired of hear-
ing Aristides constantly called the Just. Thus will merit be toa
frequently the victim of ignorance and envy. Thus will all that
is liberal and refined, whatever the human mind in its highest
state of improvement is able to conceive, be often overpowered
by the turbulence of unbridled passion, and the rude dictates of
savage folly."
If this picture must be inevitably realised wherever democrati-
cal principles are established, the state of human nature would be
peculiarly unfortunate. No form of government can be devised
which does not partake of monarchy, aristocracy, or democracy.
"We have taken a copious survey of the two former, and it would
seem impossible that greater or more inveterate mischiefs can be
inflicted on mankind, than those which are inflicted by them. No
portrait of injustice, degradation, and vice can be exhibited, that
can surpass the fair and inevitable inferences from, the principle
GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY. 57
upon which they are built. If then democracy can, by any
arguments, be brought down to a level with such monstrous
institutions as these, in which there is neither integrity nor
reason, our prospects of the future happiness of mankind, will
indeed be deplorable.
But this is impossible. Supposing that we should even be
obliged to take democracy with all the disadvantages that were
ever annexed to it, and that no remedy could be discovered for
any of its defects, it would still be preferable to the exclusive
system of other forms. Let us take Athens, with all its turbu-
lence and instability, with the popular and temperate usurpations
of Pisistratus and Pericles ; with its monstrous ostracism, by
which, with undisguised injustice, they were accustomed periodi-
cally to banish some eminent citizen, without the imputation of a
crime ; with the imprisonment of Miltiades, the exile of Aristides,
and the murder of Phocion : with all these errors on its head, it
is incontrovertible that Athens exhibited a more illustrious and
enviable spectacle, than all the monarchies and aristocracies that
ever existed. Who would reject their gallant love of virtue and
independence, because it was accompanied with irregularities?
Who would pass an unreserved condemnaticn upon their pene-
trating mind, their quick discernment, and their ardent feeling,
because they were subject occasionally to be intemperate and im-
petuous ? Shall we compare a people of such incredible achieve-
ments, such exquisite refinement, gay without insensibility, and
splendid without intemperance, in the midst of whom grew up,
the greatest poets, the noblest artists, the most finished orators
and the most disinterested philosophers, the world ever saw,
shall we compare this chosen seat of patriotism, independence,
and generous virtue, with the torpid and selfish realms of
monarchy and aristocracy ? All is not happiness that looks tran-
quillity. Better were a portion of turbulence and fluctuation,
than that unwholesome calm in which all the best faculties of the
human mind are turned to putrescence and poison.
In the estimate that is usually made of democracy, one of the
sources of our erroneous judgment, lies in our taking mankind
sxich as monarchy and aristocracy have made them, and thence
judging how fit they are to manage for themselves. Monarchy
and aristocracy would be no evils, if their tendency were not to
undermine the virtues and the understandings of their subjects.
The thing most necessary, is to remove all those restraints which
prevent the human mind from attaining its genuine strength.
Implicit faith, blind submission to authority, timid fear, a distrust
of our powers, an inattention to our own importance and the good
purposes we are able to effect, these are the chief obstacles to
human improvement. Democracy restores to man a conscious-
ness of his value, leaches him, by the removal of authority and
oppression, to listen only to the suggestions of reason, gives him
confidence to treat all other men with frankness and simplicity,
and induces him to regard them no longer, as enemies against
58 GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY.
whom to be upon his guard, but as brethren whom it becomes
him to assist. The citizen of a democratical state, when he looks
upon the oppression and injustice that prevail in the countries
around him, cannot but entertain an inexpressible esteem for the
advantages he enjoys, and the most unalterable determination to
preserve them. The influence of democracy upon the sentiments
of its members, is altogether of the negative sort, but its conse-
quences are inestimable. Nothing can be more unreasonable,
than to argue, from men as we now find them, to men as they
may hereafter be made. Strict and accurate reasoning, instead
of suffering us to be surprised that Athens did so much, would at
first induce us to wonder that she retained so many imperfections.
The road to the improvement of mankind, is in the utmost
degree simple, to speak and act the truth. If the Athenians had
had more of this, it is impossible they should have been so fla-
grantly erroneous. To express ourselves to all men with honesty
and unreserve, and to administer justice without partiality, arc
principles which, when once thoroughly adopted, are in the highest
degree prolific. They enlighten the understanding, give decision
to the judgment, and strip misrepresentation of its speciousness.
In Athens, men suffered themselves to be dazzled by splendour
and show. If the error in their constitution which led to this
defect, can be discovered, if a form of political society can be
devised, in which men shall be accustomed to judge simply and
soberly, and be habitually exercised to the manliness of truth,
democracy will, in that society, cease from the turbulence, insta-
bility, fickleness, and violence, that have too often characterised
it. Nothing can be more worthy to be depended on, than the
omnipotence of truth, or, in other words, than the connection
between the judgment and the outward behaviour.* The contest
between truth and falsehood is of itself too unequal, for the former
to stand in need of support from any political ally. The more it
is discovered, especially that part of it which relates to man in
society, the more simple and self-evident will it appear ; and it
will be found impossible, any otherwise to account for its having
been so long concealed, than from the pernicious influence of
positive institution.
There is another obvious consideration, that has freqiiently been
alleged to account for the imperfection of ancient democracies,
which is worthy of our attention, though it be not so important
as the argument which has just been stated. The ancients were
unaccustomed to the idea of depiited or representative assemblies ;
and it is reasonable to suppose, that affairs might often be trans-
acted, with the utmost order, in such assemblies, which might be
productive of much tumult and confusion, if submitted to the
personal discussions of the citizens at large.f By this happy ex-
* Vol. I., Book I., Chap. V.
t The general grounds of this institution have been stated, Vol. I., Book
III., Chap. IV. The exceptions which limit its value, will be seen, in ths
twenty-third chapter of the present book.
GENERAL FEATURES OF DEMOCRACY. 59
pedient, we secure many of the pretended benefits of aristocracy,
as well as the real benefits of democracy. The discussion of
national affairs, is brought before persons of superior education
and wisdom : we may conceive them, not only the appointed
medium of the sentiments of their constituents, but authorised,
upon certain occasions, to act on their part, in the same manner
as an unlearned parent delegates his authority over his child to a
preceptor of greater accomplishments than himself. This idea,
within proper limits, might probably be entitled to approbation,
provided the elector had the wisdom not to recede from the exer-
cise of his own understanding in political concerns, exerted his
censorial power over his representative, and were accustomed, if
the representative were unable, after the fullest explanation, to
bring him over to his opinion, to transfer his deputation to another.
The true value of the system of representation, seems to be as
follows. Large promiscous assemblies, such as the assemblies of
the people in Athens and Rome, must perhaps always be somewhat
tumultuous, and liable to many of the vices of democracy enu-
merated in the commencement of this chapter. A representative
assembly, deputed on the part of the multitude, will escape many
of their defects. But representative government is necessarily
imperfect. It is, as was formerly observed,* a point to be re-
gretted, in the abstract notion of civil society, that a majority
should overbear a minority, and that the minority, after having
opposed and remonstrated, should be obliged practically to sub-
mit, to that which was the subject of their remonstrance. But
this evil, inseparable from political government, is aggravated by
representation, which removes the power of making regulations,
one step further from the people whose lot it is to obey them.
Representation therefore, though a remedy, or rather a palliative,
for certain evils, is not a remedy so excellent or complete, as
should authorise us to rest in it, as the highest improvement of
which the social order is capable.f
Such are the general features of democratical government : but
this is a subject of too much importance to be dismissed, without
the fullest examination of everything that may enable us to decide
upon its merits. We will proceed to consider the further objec-
tions that have been alleged against it.
VoL I., Book III., Chap. II.
t See this subject pursued in Chap. XXIII., XXIV.
60 OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.
;
CHAP. XV.
OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.
Importance of this topic. Example in the doctrine of eternal punish-
ment. Its iirutitity argued -from history -from the nature of mind.
Second example : the religious sanction of a legislative system. This
idea is, 1, in strict construction impracticable 2, injurious. Third
example: principle of political order. Vice has no essentinl advan-
tage over virtue. Motives of political imposture. Effects that attend
it. Situation of the advocates of this system. Absurdity of thei?
reasonings.
ALL the arguments that have been employed to prove the insuffi-
ciency of democracy, grow out of this one root, the supposed'
necessity of deception and prejudice for restraining the turbulence
of human passions. Without the assumption of this principle
the argument could not be sustained for a moment. The direct
and decisive answer would be, " Are kings and lords intrinsically
wiser and better than their humbler neighbours ? Can there be
any solid ground of distinction, except what is founded in per-
sonal merit ? Are not men, really and strictly considered, equal,
except so far as what is personal and inalienable, establishes a
difference ?" To these questions there can be but one reply,
" Such is the order of reason and absolute truth, but artificial
distinctions are necessary for the happiness of mankind. With-
out deception and prejudice the turbulence of human passions
cannot be restrained." Let us then examine the merits of this
theory ; and these will be best illustrated by an instance.
It has been held, by some divines and some politicians, " that
the doctrine, which teaches that men will be eternally tormented
in another world, for their errors and misconduct in this, is in its
own nature unreasonable and absurd, but that it is necessary, to
keep mankind in awe. Do we not see," say they, " that, not-
withstanding this terrible denunciation, the w r orld is overrun with
vice ? What then would be the case, if the irregular passions of
mankind were set free from their present restraint, and they had
not the fear of this retribution before their eyes?"
This argument seems to be founded in a singular inattention to
the dictates of history and experience, as well as to those of rea-
son. The ancient Greeks and Romans had nothing of this
dreadful apparatus of fire and brimstone, and a torment "the
smoke of which ascends for ever and ever." Their religion was
less personal, than political. They confided in the gods as,
protectors of the state, and this inspired them with invincible
courage. In periods of public calamity, they found a ready conso-
lation, in expiatory sacrifices to appease the anger of the gods.
The attention of these beings was conceived to be principally
directed to the ceremonial of religion, and very little to the moral
4>F POLITICAL IMPOSTURE. 61
excellencies and defects of their votaries, which were supposed to
be sufficiently provided for, by the inevitable tendency of moral
excellence or defect to increase or diminish individual happiness.
If their systems included the doctrine of a future existence, little
attention was paid by them, to the connecting the moral deserts of
individuals in this life, with their comparative situation in another.
In Homer, the Elysian fields are a seat of perpetual weariness and
languor : Elysium and Tartams are inclosed in the same circuit ;
and the difference between them, at most, amounts to no more, than
the difference between sadness and misery. The same omission,
of future retribution as the basis of moral obligation runs through
the systems of the Persians, the Egyptians, the Celts, the Pheni-
cians, the Jews, and indeed every system which has not been, in
some manner or other, the offspring of the Christian. If we were
to form our judgment of these nations by the above argument,
we should expect to find every individual among them, cutting
his neighbour's throat, and inured to the commission of every
enormity. But they were, in reality, as susceptible of the regu-
lations of government, and the order of society, as those, whose
imaginations have been most artfully terrified by the threats of
future retribution ; and some of them were much more generous,
determined, and attached to the public weal.
Nothing can be more contrary to a just observation of the
nature of the human mind, than to suppose that these speculative
tenets, have much influence in making mankind more virtuous,
than they would otherwise be found. Human beings are placed
in the midst of a system of things, all the parts of which are
strictly connected with each other, and exhibit a sympathy and
unison, by means of which the whole is rendered familiar, and,
as it were, inmate to the mind. The respect I shall obtain, and
the happiness I shall enjoy, for the remainder of my life, are
topics of which I feel the entire comprehension. I understand
the value of ease, liberty, and knowledge, to myself, and my
fellow men. I perceive that these things, and a certain conduct
intending them, are connected, in the visible system of the world,
and not by any supernatural and unusual interposition. But all>-
that can be told me of a future world, a world of spirits, or of
glorified bodies, where the employments are spiritual, and the
first cause is to be rendered a subject of immediate perception, or
of a scene of retribution, where the mind, doomed to everlasting
inactivity, shall be wholly a prey to the upbraidings of remorse,
and the sarcasms of devils, is so foreign to everything with
".vhich I am acquainted, that my mind in vain endeavours to be-
lieve, or to understand it. If doctrines like these occupy the
habitual reflections of any, it is not of the lawless, the violent, and
ungovernable, but of the sober and conscientious, overwhelming
them with gratuitous anxiety, or persuading them passively to
submit to despotism and injustice, that they may receive the
recompense of their patience hereafter. This objection is equally
applicable to every species of deception. Fables may amuse the
62 OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.
imagination; but can never stand in the place of reason and
judgment as the principles of human conduct. Let us proceed
to a second instance.
It is affirmed by Rousseau, in his treatise of the Social Con-
tract, " that no legislator could ever establish a grand political
system, without having recourse to religious imposture. To
render a people, who are yet to receive the impressions of politi-
cal wisdom, susceptible of the evidence of that wisdom, would be
to convert the effect of civilisation into the cause. The legislator
being deprived of assistance from the two grand operative causes
among men, reasoning and force, is obliged to have recourse to
an authority of a different sort, which may draw without compul-
sion, and persuade without elucidation."*
These are the dreams of a fertile conception, busy in the erec-
tion of imaginary systems. To a wary and sceptical mind, that
project would seem to promise little substantial benefit, which set
out from so erroneous a principle. To terrify or seduce men into
the reception of a system, the reasonableness of which they were
unable to perceive, is surely a very questionable method for ren-
dering them sober, judicious, reasonable, and happy.
tique et
Veffet i
T 'institution, prcsiddt a V 'institution meme, et queries hommes fussent'avant
les lois ce qu'ils doivent devenir par elles. Ainsi done le legislatur ne pou-
rant employer ni la force ni le raisonnement; c'est une necessite quCil recoure
a une autorite d'un autre ordre, qui puisse entrainer sans violence, et per-
suader sans convaincre." Du Contrat Social, Liv. II. chap. mi.
Having frequently quoted Rousseau in the course of this work, it may be
allowable to say one word of his general merits, as a moral and political
writer. He has been subjected to continual ridicule, for the extravagance of
the proposition with which he began his literary career ; that the savage
state, was the genuine and proper condition of man. It was however by a
very slight mistake, that he missed the opposite opinion which it is the busi-
ness of the present enquiry to establish. He only substituted, as the topic
of his eulogium, the period that preceded government and laws, instead of
the period that may possibly follow upon their abolition. It is sufficiently
observable that, where he describes the enthusiastic influx of truth, that first
made him a moral and political writer [in his second letter to Malesherbes],
he does not so much as mention his fundamental error, but only the just prin-
ciples which led him into it. He was the first to teach, that the imperfections
of government were the only perennial source of the vices of mankind ; and
this principle was adopted from him by Helvetius and others. But he saw
further than this, that government, however reformed, was little capable of
affording solid benefit to mankind, which they did not. This principle has
since (probably without being suggested by the writings of Rousseau) been
expressed with great perspicuity and energy, but not developed, by Thomas
Paine, in the first page of his Common Sense.
Rousseau, notwithstanding his great genius, was full of weakness and pre-
judice. His Emile deserves perhaps, upon the whole, to be regarded as one
of the principal reservoirs of philosophical truth, as yet existing in the
world ; though with a perpetual mixture of absurdity and mistake. In his
writings expressly political, Du Contrat Social and Considerations sur la
Pologne, the superiority of his genius seems to desert him. To his merits as
an investigator, we should not forget to add, that the term eloquence, is per-
haps more precisely descriptive of his mode of composition, than of that of
any other writer that ever existed,
OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE. 63
In reality, no grand political system ever was introduced in the
manner Rousseau describes. Lycurgus, as he observes, obtained
the sanction of the oracle at Delphi to the constitution he had
established. But was it by an appeal to Appollo, that he per-
suaded the Spartans to renounce the use of money, to consent to
an equal division of land, and to adopt various other regulations,
the most contrary to their preconceived habits and ideas ? No :
it was by an appeal to their understandings, in the midst of long
debate and perpetual counteraction, and through the inflexibility
of his courage and resolution, that he at last attained his purpose.
Lycurgus thought proper, after the whole was concluded, to
obtain the sanction of the oracle, conceiving that it became him
to neglect no method of substantiating the benefit he had con-
ferred on his countrymen. It is indeed scarcely possible to per-
suade a society of men to adopt any system, without convincing
them that it is their wisdom to adopt it. It is difficult to conceive
a company of such miserable dupes, as to receive a code without
any imagination that it is salutary, or wise, or just ; but upon this
single recommendation that it is delivered to them from the gods.
The only reasonable, and infinitely the most efficacious method
of changing the established customs of any people, is by creating
in them a general opinion of their erroneousness and insufficiency.
But, if it be indeed impracticable to persuade men into the
adoption of any system, without employing as our principal argu-
ment, the intrinsic rectitude of that system, what is the argument
which he would desire to use, who had most at heart the welfare
and improvement of the persons concerned ? Would he begin by
teaching them to reason well, or to reason ill ? by unnerving
their mind with prejudice, or new stringing it with truth ? How
many arts, and how noxious to those towards whom we employ
them, are necessary, if we would successfully deceive ? We must
not only leave their reason in indolence at first, but endeavour to
supersede its exertion in any future instance. If men be, for the
present, kept right by prejudice, what will become of them here-
after, if, by any future penetration, or any accidental discovery,
this prejudice shall be annihilated ? Detection is not always
the fruit of systematical improvement, but may be effected by
some solitary exertion of the faculty, or some luminous and
irresistible argument, while everything else remains as it was. If
wo would first deceive, and then maintain our deception un-
impaired, we shall need penal statutes, and licensers of the press,
and hired ministers of falsehood and imposture. Admirable
modes these for the propagation of wisdom and virtue !
There is another case, similar to that stated by Rousseau, upon
which much stress has been laid by political writers. '* Obedi-
ence." say they, "must either be courted or compelled. We
must either make a judicious use of the prejudices and the
ignorance of mankind, or be contented to have no hold upon
them but their fears, and to maintain social order entirely by the
ieverity of punishment. To dispense us from this paiuful neces-
^64 OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.
sity, authority ought carefully to be invested with a sort of magic
persuasion. Citizens should serve their country, not with a
frigid submission that scrupulously weighs its duties, but with an
enthusiasm that places its honour in its loyalty. For this reason,
our governors and superiors must not be spoken of with levity.
They must be considered, independently of their individual
character, as deriving a sacredness from their office. They must
be accompanied with splendour and veneration. Advantage must
be taken of the imperfection of mankind. We ought to gain over
their judgments through the medium of their senses, and not
, leave the conclusions to be drawn, to the uncertain process of
immature reason.*
This is still the same argument under another form. It takes
for granted, that a true observation of things, is inadequate to
teach us our duty ; and, of consequence, recommends an equivocal
engine, which may, with equal ease, be employed in the service of
justice and injustice, but would surely appear somewhat more in
its place in the service of the latter. It is injustice that stands
most in need of superstition and mystery, and will most frequently
be a gainer by the imposition. This hypothesis proceeds upon an
assumption, which young men sometimes impute to their parents
and preceptors. It says, " Mankind must be kept in ignorance :
if they know vice, they will love it too well ; if they perceive the
charms of error, they will never return to the simplicity of truth."
And, strange as it may appear, this bare-faced and unplausi-
ble argument, has been the foundation of a very popular arid
generally received hypothesis. It has taught politicians to believe,
that a people, once sunk into decrepitude, as it has been termed,
could never afterwards be endued with purity and vigour.f
There are two modes, according to which the minds of human
beings may te influenced, by him who is desirous to conduct
them. The first of these, is a strong and commanding picture,
taking hold of the imagination, and surprising the judgment ; the
second, a distinct and unanswerable statement of reasons, which,
the oftener they are reflected upon, and the more they are sifted,
will be found by so much the more cogent.
One of the tritest and most general, as well as most self-evident,
maxims in the science of the human mind, is, that the former of
these is only adapted to a temporary purpose, while the latter
alone is adequate to a purpose that is durable. How comes
it then that, in the business of politic? and government, the pur-
poses of which are evidently not temporary, the fallacious mode
of proceeding should have been so generally and so eagerly
resorted to ?
This may be accounted for from two considerations : first the
diffidence, and secondly, the vanity and self-applause, of legislators
* This argument is the great common place of Mr. Burke's Keflections on
he Revolution in France, am
the Revolution in France, and of a multitude of other works, ancient
and modern, upon the subject of government.
T Book I., Chap. VII.
OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE. 65
and statesmen. It is an arduous task, always to assign reasons to
those, whose conduct we would direct ; it is by no means easy, to
answer objections and remove difficulties. It requires patience ;
it demands profound science and severe meditation. This is the
reason why, in the instance already alluded to, parents and pre-
ceptors find a refuge for their indolence, while by false pretences
they cheat the young into compliance, in preference to showing
them, as far as they may be capable of understanding it, the true
face of things. Statesmen secretly distrust their own powers,
and therefore substitute quackery in the room of principle.
But, beside the recommendations that quackery derives from
indolence and ignorance, it is also calculated to gratify the vanity
of him that employs it. He that would reason with another,
and honestly explain to him the motives of the action he recom-
mends, descends to a footing of equality. But he who undertakes
to delude us, and fashion us to his purpose by a specious appear-
ance, has a feeling that he is our master. Though his task is
neither so difficult nor so honourable as that of the ingenuous
dealer, he regards it as more flattering. At every turn he admires
his own dexterity ; he triumphs in the success of his artifices,
and delights to remark how completely mankind are his dupes.
There are disadvantages of no ordinary magnitude that attend
upon the practice of political imposture.
It is utterly incompatible with the wholesome tone of the
human understanding. Man, we have seen some reason to be-
lieve, is a being of progressive nature, and capable of unlimited
improvement. But liis progress must be upon the plain line of
reason and truth. As long as he keeps the open road, his journey
is prosperous and promising ; but, if he turn aside into by-patlis,
he will soon come to a point, where there is no longer either
avenue or track. He that is accustomed to a deceitful medium,
will be ignorant of the true colours of things. He that is often
imposed on, will be no judge of the fair and the genuine. Human
understanding cannot be tampered with, with impunity; if we
admit prejudice, deception and implicit faith in one subject, the
inquisitive energies of the mind will be more or less weakened
in all. This is a fact so well known, that the persons who recom-
mend the governing mankind by deception, are, to a man, advo-
cates of the opinion, that the human species is essentially sta-
tionary.
A further disadvantage of political imposture, is, that the bubble
is hourly in danger of bursting, and the delusion of coming to an
end. The playing upon our passions and our imagination, as we
have already said, can never fully answer any but a temporary
purpose. In delusion there is always inconsistency. It will
look plausibly, when placed in a certain light ; but it will not
bear handling, and examining on all sides. It suits us in a cer-
tain animated tone of mind ; but in a calm and tranquil season,
it is destitute of power. Politics and government are affairs of a
20. VOL. n. F
66 OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE.
durable concern; they should therefore rest upon a basis that
will abide the test.
The system of political imposture divides men into two classes,
one of which is to think and reason for the whole, and the other
to take the conclusions of their superiors on trust. This distinc-
tion is not founded in the nature of things ; there is no such in-
herent difference between man and man, as it thinks proper to
suppose. Nor is it less injurious, than it is unfounded. The
two classes which it creates, must be more and less than man. It
is too much to expect of the former, while we consign to them
an unnatural monopoly, that they should rigidly consult for the
good of the whole. It is an iniquitous requisition upon the latter,
that they should never employ their understandings, or penetrate
into the essences of things, but always rest in a deceitful appear-
ance. It is iniquitous, to deprive them of that chance for addi-
tional wisdom, which would result from a greater number of
minds being employed in the enquiry, and from the disinterested
and impartial spirit that might be expected to accompany it.
How strangely incongruous is that state of mind, which the
system we are here examining, is adapted to recommend. Shall
those persons who govern the springs, and carry on the deception,
be themselves in the secret of the imposition or not ? This is a
fundamental question. It has often been started, in relation to the
authors or abettors of a new fabric of superstition. On the one
hand, we should be apt to imagine, that, for a machine to be guided
well, it is desirable that those who guide it, should be acquainted
with its principle. We should suppose that, otherwise the governors
we speak of, would not always know the extent and the particulars
as to which the deception was salutary ; and that, where " the blind
led the blind," the public welfare would not be in a much better
condition, that the greatest advocates of imposture could suppose
it to be under the auspices of truth. But then again, on the
other hand, no man can be powerful in persuasion, in a point
where he has not first persuaded himself. Beside that the secret
must, first or last, be confided to so many hands, that it will be
continually in danger of being discovered by the public at large.
So that for these reasons it would seem best, that he, who first
invented the art of leading mankind at pleasure, and set the
wheels of political craft in motion, should suffer his secret to die
with him.
And what sort of character must exist in a state thus modified ?
Those at the head of affairs, if they be acquainted with the
principle of the political machine, must be perpetually anxious,
lest mankind should unexpectedly recover the use of their facul-
ties. Falsehood must be their discipline and incessant study.
We will suppose, that they adopt this system of imposture, in the
first instance, from the most benevolent motives. But will the
continual practice of concealment, hypocrisy and artifice, make
no breaches in their character ? Will they, in despite of habit,
OF POLITICAL IMPOSTURE. 67
retain all that ingenuousness of heart which is the first principle
of virtue ?
With respect to the multitude, in this system, they are placed
in the middle between two fearful calamities, suspicion on one
side, and infatuation on the other. Even children, when their
parents explain to them, that there is one system of morality for
youth, and another for mature age, and endeavour to cheat them
into submission, are generally found to suspect the trick. It can-
not reasonably be thought, that the mass of the governed in any
country, should be less clear-sighted than children. Thus they
are kept in perpetual vibration, between rebellious discontent,
and infatuated credulity. Sometimes they suppose their governors
to be the messengers and favourites of heaven, a supernatural
order of beings ; and sometimes they suspect them to be a com-
bination of usurpers to rob and oppress them. For they dare not
indulge themselves in solving the dilemma, because they are held
in awe by oppression and the gallows.
Is this the genuine state of man ? Is this a condition so desir-
able, that we should be anxious to entail it upon posterity for
ever ? Is it high treason to inquire whether it may be melior-
ated? Are we sure, that every change from such a situation
of things, is severely to be deprecated ? Is it not worth while, to
suffer that experiment, which shall consist in a gradual, and
almost insensible, abolition of such mischievous institutions ?
It may not be uninstructive to consider what sort of discourse
must be held, or book written, by him who should make himself
the champion of political imposture. He cannot avoid secretly
wishing that the occasion had never existed. What he under-
takes is to lengthen the reign of " salutary prejudices." For this
end, he must propose to himself the two opposite purposes, of
prolonging the deception, and proving that it is necessary to
deceive. By whom is it that he intends his book should be read ?
Chiefly by the governed ; the governors need little inducement to
continue the system. But, at the same time that he tells us, we
should cherish the mistake as mistake, and the prejudice as pre-
judice, he is himself lifting the veil, and destroying his own
system. While the affair of our superiors and the enlightened, is
simply to impose upon us, the task is plain and intelligible.
But, the moment they begin to write books, to persuade us that
we ought to be willing to be deceived, it may well be suspected
that their system is upon the decline. It is not to be wondered
at, if the greatest genius, and the sincerest and most benevo-
lent champion, should fail in producing a perspicuous or very
persuasive treatise, when he undertakes so hopeless a task.
The argument of such a system must, when attentively ex-
amined, be the most untenable that can be imagined. It under-
takes to prove that we must not be governed by reason. To
prove ! How prove ? Necessarily, from the resources of reason.
What can be more contradictory ? If I must not trust the con-
clusions of reason relative to the intrinsic value of things, why
r 2
68 OF THE CAUSES OF WAR.
trust to your reasons in favour of the benefit of being deceived ?
You cut up your own argument by the roots. If I must re-
ject the dictates of reason in one point, there can be no possible
cause why I should adopt them in another. Moral reasons and
inducements, as we have repeatedly shown, consist singly in this,
an estimate of consequences. What can supersede this estimate ?
Not an opposite estimate ; for, by the nature of morality, the pur-
pose, in the first instance, is, to take into account all the conse-
quences. Not something else, for a consideration of consequences
is the only thing, with which morality and practical wisdom are
directly concerned. The moment I dismiss the information of
my own eyes and my own understanding, there is, in all justice,
an end to persuasion, expostulation, or conviction. There is no
pretence, by which I can disallow the authority of inference and
deduction in one instance, that will not justify a similar proceed-
ing in every other. He that, in any case, designedly surrenders
the use of his own understanding, is condemned to remain
for ever at the beck of contingence and caprice, and is even
"bound in consistency, no more to frame his course by the results
of demonstration, than by the wildest dreams of delirium and
insanity.
CHAP. XVI.
OF THE CAUSES OF WAB.
Offensive war contrary to the nature of democracy. Defensive war ex-
ceedingly rare. Erroneousness of the ideas usually annexed to the
phrase, our country. Nature of tear delineated. Insufficient causes
of war the acquiring a healthful and vigorous tone to the public
mind the putting a termination upon private insults the menaces
or preparations o/' our neighbours the dangerous consequences of
concession the vindication of national honour. Two legitimate causes
of u'ar.
EXCLUSIVELY of those objections which have been urged against
the democratical system, as it relates to the internal management
of affairs, there are others, upon which considerable stress has
been laid, in relation to the transactions of a state with foreign
powers, to war and peace, and to treaties of alliance and com-
merce.
There is indeed an eminent difference, with respect to these,
between the democratical system and all others. It is perhaps
impossible to show, that a single w r ar ever did, or could have
taken place, in the history of mankind, that did not in some way
originate with those two great political monopolies, monarchy and
OF THE CTP5ES OP WAR. 69
aristocracy. This might have formed an additional article, in the
catalogue of the evils to which they have given birth, little
inferior to any of those we have enumerated. But nothing could
be more idle, than to overcharge a subject, the evidence of which
is irresistible.
What could be the source of misunderstanding between states,
where no man, or body of men, found encouragement to the ac-
cumulation of privileges to himself, at the expence of the rest ?
Why should they pursue additional wealth or territory ? These
would lose their value, the moment they became the property of
all. No man can cultivate more than a certain portion of land.
Money is representative, and not real wealth. If every man in
the society possessed a double portion of money, bread, and every
other commodity, would sell at double their present price,
and the relative situation of each individual, would be just what
it had been before. War and conquest cannot be beneficial
to the community. Their tendency is to elevate a few at the ex-
pence of the rest ; and consequently they will never be under-
taken, but where the many are the instruments of the few. But
this cannot happen in a democracy, till the democracy, shall
become such only in name. If expedients can be devised for
maintaining this species of government in its purity, or if there
be anything, in the nature of wisdom and intellectual improve-
ment, which has a tendency daily to make truth more prevalent
over falsehood, the principle of offensive war will be extirpated.
But this principle enters into the very essence of monarchy and
aristocracy.
It is not meant here to be insinuated, that democracy has not
repeatedly been a source of war. It was eminently so among the
ancient Romans ; the aristocracy found in it an obvious expedient
for diverting the attention and encroachments of the people. It
may be expected to be so, wherever the form of government is
complicated, and the nation at hrge is enabled to become formid-
able to a band of usurpers. But war will be foreign to the cha-
racter of any people, in proportion as their democracy becomes
simple and unalloyed.
Meanwhile, though the principle of offensive war be incompati-
ble with the genius of democracy, a democratical state may be
placed in the neighbourhood of states whose government is less
equal, and therefore it will be proper to enquire into the supposed
disadvantages which the democratical state may sustain in the
contest. The only species of war in which it can consistently be
engaged, will be that the object of which is to repel wanton
invasion. Such invasions will be little likely frequently to occur.
For what purpose should a corrupt state attack a country, that
has no feature in common with itself upon which to build a mis-
understanding, and that presents, in the very nature of its govern-
ment, a pledge of its inoffensiveness and neutrality ? Add to
which, it will presently appear, that this state, which yields the
fewest incitements to provoke an attack, will prove a very
70 OF THE CAUSES OF WAR.
undesirable adversary to those by whom an attack shall be com-
menced.
One of the most essential principles of political justice is
diametrically the reverse of that, which impostors, as well as
patriots, have too frequently agreed to recommend. Their per-
petual exhortation has been, "Love your country. Sink the
personal existence of individuals in the existence of the commu-
nity. Make little account of the particular men of whom the
society consists, but aim at the general wealth, prosperity, and
glory. Purify your mind from the gross ideas of sense, and ele-
vate it to the single contemplation of that abstract individual, of
which particular men are so many detached members, valuable
only for the place they fill."*
The lessons of reason on this head are different from these.
" Society is an ideal existence, and not, on its own account, en-
titled to the smallest regard. The wealth, prosperity and glory
of the whole are unintelligible chimeras. Set no value on any-
thing, but in proportion as you are convinced of its tendency to
make individual men happy and virtuous. Benefit, by every
practicable mode, man wherever he exists ; but be not deceived
by the specious idea of affording services to a body of men, for
which no individual man is the better. Society was instituted,
not for the sake of glory, not to furnish splendid materials for the
page of history, but for the benefit of its members. The love of
our country, as the term has usually been understood, has too
often been found to be one of those specious illusions, which are
employed by impostors, for the purpose of rendering the multi-
tude the blind instruments of their crooked designs."
In the mean time, the maxims which are here controverted,
have had by so much the more success in the world, as they bear
some resemblance to the purest sentiments of virtue. Virtue is
nothing else but kind and sympathetic feelings reduced into prin-
ciple. Undisciplined feeling would induce me, now to interest
myself exclusively for one man, and now for another, to be
eagerly solicitous for those who are present to me, and to forget
the absent. Feeling ripened into virtue, embraces the interests
of the whole human race, and constantly proposes to itself the
production of the greatest quantity of happiness. But, while it
anxiously adjusts the balance of interests, and yields to no case,
however urgent, to the prejudice of the whole, it keeps aloof from
the unmeaning rant of romance, and uniformly recollects that
happiness, in order to be real, must necessarily be individual.
The love of our country, has often been found to be a deceitful
principle, as its direct tendency, is to set the interests of one
division of mankind in opposition to another, and to establish a
preference, built upon accidental relations, and not upon reason.
Much of what has been understood by the appellation, is excel-
lent, but perhaps nothing that can be brought within the strict
* Du Contrat Social, #c. #c. #e.
OF THE CAUSES OP WAR. 71
interpretation of the phrase. A wise and well informed man will
not fail to be the votary of liberty and justice. He will be ready
to exert himself in their defence, wherever they exist. It cannot
be a matter of indifference to him, when his own liberty and that
of other men with whose merits and capacities he has the best
opportunity of being acquainted, are involved in the event of the
struggle to be made. But his attachment will be to the cause, as
the cause of man, and not to the country. Wherever there are
individuals, who understand the value of political justice, and are
prepared to assert it, that is his country. Wherever he can most
contribute to the diffusion of these principles and the real happi-
ness of mankind, that is his country. Nor does he desire, for any
country, any other benefit than justice.
To apply these principles to the subject of war. And, before
that application can be adequately made, it is necessary to recol-
lect, for a moment, the force of the term.
Because individuals were liable to error, and suffered their ap-
prehensions of justice to be perverted by a bias in favour of
themselves, government was instituted. Because nations were
susceptible of a similar weakness, and could find no sufficient
umpire to whom to appeal, war was introduced. Men were in-
duced deliberately to seek each other's lives, and to adjudge the
controversies between them, not according to the dictates of rea-
son and justice, but as either should prove most successful in.
devastation and murder. This was no doubt in the first instance
the extremity of exasperation and rage. But it has since been
converted into a trade. One part of the nation pays another part,
to murder and be murdered in their stead ; and the most trivial
causes, a supposed insult, or a sally of youthful ambition, have
sufficed to deluge provinces with blood.
We can have no adequate idea of this evil, unless we visit, at
least in imagination, a field of battle. Here men deliberately
destroy each other by thousands, without resentment against, or
even knowledge of, each other. The plain is strewed with death
in all its forms. Anguish and wounds display the diversified
modes in which they can torment the human frame. Towns are
burned ; ships are blown up in the air, while the mangled limbs
descend on every side ; the fields are laid desolate ; the wives of
the inhabitants exposed to brutal insult ; and their children driven
forth to hunger and nakedness. It is an inferior circumstance,
though by no means unattended with the widest and most deplor-
able effects, when we add, to these scenes of horror, and the
subversion of all ideas of moral justice they must occasion in the
auditors and spectators, the immense treasures which are wrung,
in the form of taxes, from those inhabitants whose residence is
removed from the seat of war.
After this enumeration, we may venture to enquire what are the
justifiable causes and rules of war.
It is not a justifiable reason, " that we imagine our own people
would be rendered more cordial and orderly, if we could find a
72 OF THE CAUSES OF WAR.
neighbour with whom to quarrel, and who might serve as a touch-
stone to try the characters and dispositions of individuals among
ourselves."* We are not at liberty to have recourse to the most
complicated and atrocious of all mischiefs, in the way of an ex-
periment.
It is not a justifiable reason, " that we have been exposed to
certain insults, and that tyrants, perhaps, have delighted in treat-
ing with contempt, the citizens of our happy state who have
visited their dominions." Government ought to protect the tran-
quillity of those who reside within the sphere of its functions - 9
but, if individuals think proper to visit other countries, they must
be delivered over to the protection of general reason. Some
proportion must be observed, between the evil of which we com-
plain, and the evil which the nature of the proposed remedy
inevitably includes.
It is not a justifiable reason, "that our neighbour is preparing,
or menacing hostilities." If we be obliged to prepare in our turn,
the inconvenience is only equal ; and it is not to be believed, that
a despotic country is capable of more exertion than a free one,
when the task incumbent on the latter is indispensible precaution.
It has sometimes been held to be sound reasoning upon this
subject, " that we ought not to yield little things, which may not.
in themselves, be sufficiently valuable to authorise this tremendous
appeal, because a disposition to yield, only invites further experi-
ments." Much otherwise ; at least when the character of such
a nation is sufficiently understood. A people that will not con-
tend for nominal and trivial objects, that adheres to the precise
line of unalterable justice, and that does not fail to be moved at
the moment that it ought to be moved, is not the people that its
neighbours will delight to urge to extremities.
" The vindication of national honour," is a very insufficient
reason for hostilities. True honour is to be found only in in-
tegrity and justice. It has been doubted, how far a view to
reputation, ought, in matters of inferior moment, to be permitted
to influence the conduct of individuals ; but, let the case of indi-
viduals be decided as it may, reputation, considered as a separate
motive in the instance of nations, can perhaps never be justifiable,
In individuals, it seems as if I might, consistently with the ut-
most real integrity, be so misconstrued and misrepresented by
* The reader will easily perceive that the pretences, by which the people
of France were instigated to a declaration of war, in April, 1792, were in the
author's mind in this and the two following articles. Nor will a few lines
be misspent in this note, in stating the feelings of a dispassionate observer,
upon the wantonness with which they have appeared ready, upon different
occasions, to proceed to extremities. If policy were in question, it might be
doubted, whether the confederacy of kings would ever have been brought
into action against them, had it not been for their precipitation ; and it
might be asked, what impression they must expect to find produced upon the
minds of other states, by their intemperate commission of hostility ? But
that equal humanity, which prescribes to us, never, by a hasty interference,
to determine the doubtful balance in favour of murder, is a superior con-
sideration, in comparison with which policy is scarcely worthy to be named.
OF THE OBJECT OP WAR. 73
others, as to render my efforts at usefulness almost necessarily
abortive. But tliis reason does not apply to the case of nations.
Their real story cannot easily be suppressed. Usefulness and
public spirit, in relation to them, chiefly belong to the transactions
of their members among themselves ; and their influence in the
transactions of neighbouring nations, is a consideration evidently
subordinate. The question which respects the justifiable causes
of -war, would be liable to few difficulties, if we were accustomed,
along with the word, strongly to call up to our minds the thing
which that word is intended to represent.
Accurately considered, there can probably be but two causes of
war that can maintain any plausible claim to justice ; and one of
them, is among those which the logic of sovereigns, and the law
of nations, as it has been termed, have been thought to proscribe :
these are the defence of our own liberty, and of the liberty of
others. The well known objection to the latter of these cases,
is, " that one nation ought not to interfere in the internal trans-
actions of another." But certainly every people is fit for the
possession of any immunity, as soon as they understand the
nature of that immunity, and desire to possess it ; and it is pro-
bable that this condition may be sufficiently realised, in cases,
where, from the subtlety of intrigue, and the tyrannical jealousy
of neighbouring kingdoms, they may be rendered incapable of
effectually asserting their rights. This principle is capable of
being abused by men of ambition and intrigue ; but, accurately
considered, the very same argument that should induce me to
exert myself for the liberties of my own country, is equally cogent,
so far as my opportunities and ability extend, with respect to the
liberties of any other country. But what is my duty in this case,
is the duty of all ; and the exertion must be collective, where
collective exertion only can be effectual.
CHAP. XVII.
OF THE OBJECT OF WAR.
The repelling an invader. Not reformation not restraint not indem-
nification. Nothing can be a sufficient object of war, that is not a
sufficient cause for beginning it. Reflections on the balance of power.
LET us pass, from the causes, to the objects of war. As defence
is the only legitimate cause, the object pursued, reasoning from
this principle, will be circumscribed within very narrow limits.
It can extend no further, than the repelling the enemy from our
borders. It is perhaps desirable that, in addition to this, he
should afford some proof that he does not propose immediately to.
74 OP THE OBJECT OP WAR.
renew his invasion; but this, though desirable, affords no suffi-
cient apology for the continuance of hostilities. Declarations of
war, and treaties of peace, were the inventions of a barbarous
age, and would probably never have grown into established
usages, if war had customarily gone no further than to the limits
of defence.
The criminal justice, as it has been termed, of nations within
themselves, has only three objects that it can be imagined to
have in view, the reformation of the criminal, the restraining him
from future excesses, and example. But none of these objects,
whatever may be thought of them while confined to their original
province, can sufficiently apply to the case of war between inde-
pendent states. War, as we have already seen, perhaps never
originates, on the offending side, in the sentiments of a nation,
but of a comparatively small number of individuals : and, were it
otherwise, there is something so monstrous, in the idea of chang-
ing the principles of a whole country by the mode of military
execution, that every man not lost to sobriety and common sense,
may be expected to shrink from it with horror.
Restraint appears to be sometimes necessary, with respect to
the offenders that exist in the midst of a community, because it
is customary for such offenders to assail us with unexpected
violence ; but nations cannot move with such secrecy, as to make
an unforseen attack an object of considerable apprehension. The
only effectual means of restraint, in this case, is by disabling,
impoverishing, and depopulating the country of our adversaries ;
and, if we recollected that they are men as well as ourselves, and
the great mass of them innocent of the quarrel against us, we
should be little likely to consider these expedients with compla-
cency. The idea of making an example of an offending nation,
is reserved for that God, whom the church, as by law established,
instructs us to adore.
Indemnification is another object of war, which the same mode
of reasoning will not fail to condemn. The true culprits can
never be discovered, and the attempt would only serve to con-
found the innocent and the guilty : not to mention, that nations
having no common umpire, the reverting, in the conclusion of
every war, to the justice of the original quarrel, and the indemnifi-
cation to which the parties were entitled, would be a means of
rendering the controversy endless. The question respecting the
justifiable objects of war would be liable to few difficulties, if we
laid it down as a maxim, that, as often as the principle or object
of a war already in existence was changed, it was to be con-
sidered as equivalent to the commencement of a new war. This
maxim, impartially applied, would not fail to condemn objects of
prevention, indemnification, and restraint.
The celebrated topic of the balance of power, is a mixed con-
sideration, having sometimes been proposed as the cause for
beginning a war, and sometimes as an object to be pursued in a
war already begun. A war, undertaken to maintain the balance
OF THE OBJECT OP WAR. 75
of power, may be either of defence, as to protect a people who
are oppressed^ or of prevention, to counteract new acquisitions, or
to reduce the magnitude of old possessions. We shall be in little
danger of error however, if we pronounce wars undertaken to
maintain the balance of power to be universally unjust. If any
people be oppressed, it is our duty, as has been already said, as
far as a favourable opportunity may invite us, to fly to their
succour. But it would be well if, in such cases, we called our
interference by the name which justice prescribes, and fought
against the oppression, and not the power. All hostilities against
a neighbouring people, because they are powerful, or because we
impute to them evil designs which they have not begun to carry
into execution, are incompatible with every principle of morality.
If one nation choose to be governed by the monarch, or ail
individual allied to the monarch, of another, as seems to have
been the case in Spain, upon the extinction of the elder branch
of pie house of Austria, we may endeavour, as individuals, to
enlighten them on the subject of government, and imbue them
with principles of liberty ; but it is an execrable piece of tyranny,
to tell them, " You shall exchange the despot you love, for the
despot you hate, on account of certain remote consequences we
apprehend from the accession of the former." The pretence of
the balance of power, has, in a multitude of instances, served
as a veil to the intrigue of courts ; but it would be easy to show,
that the present independence of the different states of Europe,
has, in no instance, been materially assisted, by the wars under-
taken for that purpose. The fascination of a people desiring to
become the appendage of a splendid despotism, will rarely cccur ;
and when it does, can justly be counteracted only by peaceable
means. The succouring a people in their struggle against oppres-
sion must always be just, with this limitation, that to attempt it
without an urgent need on their part, may uselessly extend the
calamities of war, and has a tendency to diminish those energies
among themselves, the exertion of which might contribute to
their virtue and happiness. Add to this, that the object itself,
the independence of the different states of Europe, is of an
equivocal nature. The despotism, which at present prevails in
the majority of them, is certainly not so excellent, as to make
us very anxious for its preservation. The press is an engine of
so admirable a nature for the destruction of despotism, as to elude
the sagacity perhaps of the most vigilant police ; and the internal
checks upon freedom in a mighty empire and distant provinces,
can scarcely be expected to be equally active with those of a
petty tyrant. The reasoning will surely" be good with respect to
war, which has already been employed upon the subject of
government, that an instrument, evil in its own nature, ought
never to be selected as the means of promoting our purpose, in
any case in which selection can be practised.
76 OP THE CONDUCT OF WAR.
CHAP. XVIII.
OF THE CONDUCT OF WAR.
Offensive operations. Fortifications. General action. Stratagem.
Military contributions. Capture of mercantile vessels. Naval war*
Humanity. Military obedience. Foreign possessions.
ANOTHER topic respecting war, which, it is of importance to con-
sider in this place, relates to the mode of conducting it. Upon
this article, our judgment will be greatly facilitated, by a re-
collection of the principles already established, first, that no war
is justifiable but a war purely defensive ; and, secondly, that a
war already begun, is liable to change its character in this respect,
the moment the object pursued in it becomes in any degree
varied. From these principles it follows as a direct corollary,
that it is never allowable to make an expedition into the provinces
of the enemy, unless for the purpose of assisting its oppressed
inhabitants. It is scarcely necessary to add that all false casuistry
respecting the application of this exception, would be particularly
odious ; and that it is better undisguisedly to avow the corrupt
principles of policy by which we conduct ourselves, than hypo-
critically to claim the praise of better principles, which we fail
not to wrest to the justification of whatever we desire. The case
of relieving the inhabitants of our enemy's territory, and their
desire of obtaining relief, ought to be unequivocal ; we shall be
in great danger of misapprehension on the subject, when the
question comes under the form of immediate benefit to ourselves ;
and, above all, we must recollect that human blood is not to be
shed upon a precarious experiment.
The occasional advantages of war, that might be gained by
offensive operations, might be abundantly compensated, by the
character of magnanimous forbearance that a rigid adherence to
defence would exhibit, and the effects that character would pro-
duce, both upon foreign nations, and upon our own people.
Great unanimity at home, can scarcely fail to be the effect of a
direct and clear conformity to political justice. The enemy who
penetrates into our country, wherever he meets a man, will meet
a foe. Every obstacle will oppose itself to his progress, while every-
thing will be friendly and assisting to our own forces. He will
scarcely be able to procure the slightest intelligence, or under-
stand in any case his relative situation. The principles of defen-
sive war are so simple, as to procure an almost infallible success.
Fortifications are a very equivocal species of protection, and will
perhaps oftener be of advantage to the enemy, by being first taken,
and then converted into magazines for his armies. A moving
force on the contrary, if it only hovered about his march, and
avoided general action, would always preserve the real superiority.
The great engine of military success or miscarriage, is the article
OP THE CONDUCT OF WAR. 77
of provisions; and the farther the enemy advanced into our
country, the more easy -would it be to cut off his supply ; at the
same time that, so long as we avoided general action, any decisive
success on his part would be impossible. These principles, if
rigidly practised, would soon be so well understood, that the
entering in a hostile manner the country of a neighbouring nation,
would come to be regarded as the infallible destruction of the
invading army. Perhaps no people were ever conquered at their
own doors, unless they were first betrayed, either by divisions
among themselves, or by the abject degeneracy of their character.
The more we come to understand the nature of justice, the more
it will show itself to be stronger than a host of foes. Men, whose
bosoms are truly pervaded with this principle, cannot perhaps be
other than invincible. Among the various examples of excellence,
in almost every department, that ancient Greece has bequeathed
us, the most conspicuous, is her resistance with a handful of men
against three millions of invaders.*
One branch of the art of war, as well as of every other human
art, has hitherto consisted in deceit. If the principles of this work
be built upon a sufficiently solid basis, the practice of deceit ought,
in almost all instances, to be condemned, whether it proceed from
false tenderness to our friends, or from a desire to hasten the
downfall of injustice. Vice is neither the most allowable nor
effectual weapon with which to contend against vice. Deceit is
certainly not less deceit, whether the falsehood be formed into
words, or be conveyed through the medium of fictitious appear-
ances. A virtuous and upright nation, would be scarcely more
willing to mislead the enemy by false intelligence, or treacherous
ambuscade, than by the breach of their engagements, or by
feigned demonstrations of friendship. There seems to be no
essential difference between throwing open our arms to embrace
them, and advancing towards them with neutral colours, or
covering ourselves with a defile or a wood. By the practice of
surprise and deceit, we shall oftenest cut off their straggling
parties, and shed most blood: By an open display of our force,
we shall prevent detachments from being made, and intercept the
possibility of supply without unnecessary bloodshed ; and there
seems no reason to believe that our ultimate success will be less
secure. Why should war be made the science of disingenuous-
ness and mystery, when the plain dictates of good sense would
answer all its legitimate purposes ? The first principle of defence
is firmness and vigilance. The second, perhaps, which is not less
immediately connected with the end to be obtained, is frankness,
and the open disclosure of our purpose, even to our enemies.
What astonishment, admiration, and terror, might this conduct
excite in those with whom we had to contend ? What confidence
* These chapters were written during the month of September, 1792,
efore the intelligence of Dumouriez's success, and while the lieait of every
lover of liberty ached for the event of the campaign,
78 OF THE CONDUCT OF WAR.
and magnanimity would accompany it in our own bosoms ? Why
should not war, as a step towards its complete abolition, be
brought to such perfection, as that the purposes of the enemy
might be baffled, without firing a musket, or drawing a sword ?
Another corollary, not less inevitable from the principles which
have been delivered, is, that the operations of war should be
limited, as accurately as possible, to the generating no further
evils, than defence inevitably requires. Ferocity ought carefully
to be banished from it. Calamity should, as entirely as possible,
be prevented, to every individual who is not actually in arms,
and whose fate has no immediate reference to the event of the
war. This principle condemns the levying military contributions,
and the capture of mercantile vessels. Each of these atrocities
would be in another way precluded, by the doctrine of simple
defence. We should scarcely think of levying such contribu-
tions, if we never attempted to pass the limits of our own territory ;
and every species of naval war would probably be proscribed.
The utmost benevolence ought to be practised towards our
enemies. We should refrain from the unnecessary destruction of
a single life, and afford every humane accommodation to the un-
fortunate. The bulk of those against whom we have to contend,
are, comparatively speaking, innocent of the projected injustice.
Those by whom it has been most assiduously fostered, are enti-
tled to our kindness as men, and to our compassion as mistaken.
It has already appeared, that all the ends of punishment are
foreign to the transactions of war. It has appeared, that the
genuine melioration of war, in consequence of which it may be
expected absolutely to cease, is by gradually disarming it of its
ferocity. The horrors of war have sometimes been attempted
to be vindicated, by a supposition, that the more intolerable
it was made, the more quickly would it cease to infest the
world. But the direct contrary of this is the truth. Severi-
ties beget severities. It is a most mistaken way of teach-
ing men to feel that they are brothers, by imbuing their minds
with unrelenting hatred. The truly just man cannot feel ani-
mosity, and is therefore little likely to act as if he did.
Having examined the conduct of war, as it respects our ene-
mies, let us next consider it, in relation to the various descriptions
of persons by whom it is to be supported. We have seen how
little a just and upright war stands in need of secrecy. The
plans for conducting a campaign, instead of being, as artifice
and ambition have hitherto made them inextricably complicated,
will probably be reduced to two or three variations suited to the
different circumstances, that can possibly occur in a war of simple
defence. The better these plans are known to the enemy, the
more advantageous will it be to the resisting party. Hence it
follows that the principles of implicit faith and military obedience,
as they are now understood, will be no longer necessary. Sol-
diers will cease to be machines. The circumstance that con-
stitutes men machines, in this sense of the word, is not the
OF THE CONDUCT OP WAR. 79
uniformity of their motions, when they see the reasonableness of
that uniformity : it is their performing any motion, or engaging
in any action, the object and utility of which they do not clearly
understand. It is true that, in every state of human society,
there will be men of an intellectual capacity much superior to
their neighbours. But defensive war, and every other species of
operation, in which it will be necessary that many individuals
should act in concert, will perhaps be found so simple in their
operations, as not to exceed the apprehension of the most com-
mon capacities. It is ardently to be desired that the time should
arrive, when no man should lend his assistance to any operation,
without, in some degree exercising his judgment, respecting the
honesty, and the expected event, of that operation.
The principles here delivered on the conduct of war, lead the
mind to a very interesting subject, that of foreign and distant
territories. Whatever may be the value of these principles
considered in themselves, they become altogether nugatory, the
moment the idea of foreign dependencies is admitted. But, in
reality, what argument, possessing the smallest degree of plausi-
bility, can be alleged, in favour of that idea? The mode in
which dependencies are acquired, must be either conquest, ces-
sion or colonization. The first of these no true moralist or poli-
tician will attempt to defend. The second is to be considered as
the same thing in substance as the first, but with less openness
and ingenuity. Colonization, which is by much the most specious
pretence, is however no more than a pretence. Are these pro-
vinces held in a state of dependence, for our sake, or for theirs ?
If for ours, we must recollect that this is still an usurpation, and
that justice requires we should yield to others what we demand
for ourselves, the privilege of being governed by the dictates of
their own reason. If for theirs, they must be told, that it is the
business of associations of men to defend themselves, or, if that
be impracticable, to look for support to a confederation with their
neighbours. They must be told, that defence against foreign
enemies is a very inferior consideration., and that no people were
ever either wise or happy, who were not left to the fair develop-
ment of their inherent powers. Can anything be more absurd,
than for the West India islands, for example, to be defended by
fleets and armies to be transported across the Atlantic? The
support of a mother country extended to her colonies, is much
oftener a means of involving them in danger, than of contributing
to their security. The connection is maintained, by vanity on
one side, and prejudice on the other. If they must sink into a
degrading state of dependence, how will they be the worse, in
belonging to one state rather than another ? Perhaps the first
step towards putting a stop to this fruitful source of war, would
be, to annihilate that monopoly of trade which enlightened
reasoners at present agree to condemn, and to throw open the
ports of our colonies to all the world. The principle which will
not fail to lead us right upon this subject of foreign dependencies,
80 OF MILITARY ESTABLISHMENTS
as well as upon a thousand others, is the principle delivered in
entering upon the topic of war, that that attribute, however splen-<
did, is not really beneficial to a nation, that is not beneficial to
the great mass of individuals of which the nation consists.
CHAP XIX.
OF MILITARY ESTABLISHMENTS AND TREATIES.
A country may look for its defence, either to a standing army, or an
universal militia. The former condemned. The latter objected to, as
of pernicious tendency as unnecessary either in respect to courage
or discipline. Of a commander. Of treaties. Conclusion.
THE last topic which it may be necessary to examine, as to the
subject of war, is the conduct it becomes us to observe respecting
it, in a time of peace. This article may be distributed into two
heads, military establishments, and treaties of alliance.
If military establishments in time of peace be judged proper,
their purpose may be effected, either by consigning the practice
of military discipline to a certain part of the community, or by
making every man, whose age is suitable for that purpose, a
soldier.
The preferableness of the latter of these methods to the former,
is obvious. The man that is merely a soldier, must always be
uncommonly depraved. War, in his case, inevitably degenerates,
from the necessary precautions of a personal defence, into a trade,
by which a man sells his skill in murder, and the safety of his
existence, for a pecuniary recompense. The man that is merely
a soldier, ceases to be, in the same sense as his neighbours, a
citizen. He is cut off from the rest of the community, and has
sentiments and a rule of judgment peculiar to himself. He con-
siders his countryman as indebted to him for their security ; and,
by an unavoidable transition of reasoning, believes that, in a
double sense, they are at his mercy. On the other hand, that
every citizen should exercise in his turn the functions of a soldier,
seems peculiarly favourable to that confidence in himself, and in
the resources of his country, which it is so desirable he should en-
tertain. It is congenial to that equality, which must operate to a
considerable extent, before mankind in general can be either
virtuous or wise. And it seems to multiply the powers of defence
in a country, so as to render the idea of its falling under the yoke
of an enemy, in the utmost degree improbable.
There are reasons however that will oblige us to doubt, respect-
ing the propriety of cultivating, under any form, the system of
military discipline in time of peace. It is, in this respect, with
AND TREATIES. 81
Rations, as it is with individuals. The man that, with a pistol
bullet, is sure of his mark, or that excels his contemporaries in the
exercise of the sword, can scarcely escape those obliquities of un-
derstanding, which accomplishments of this sort are adapted to
nourish. It is not to be expected, that he should entertain till that
confidence in justice, and distaste of violence, which reason pre-
scribes. It is beyond all controversy that war, though the practice
of it, under the present state of the human species, should be
found, in some instances, unavoidable, is a proceeding pregnant
with calamity and vice. It cannot be a matter of indifference, for
the human mind to be systematically familiarised to thoughts of
murder and desolation. The pupil of nature would not fail, at
the sight of a musket or a sword, to be impressed with sentiments
of abhorrence. Why expel these sentiments ? Why connect the
discipline of death with ideas of festivity and splendour ; which
will inevitably happen, if the citizens, without oppression, are
accustomed to be drawn out to encampments and reviews ? Is it
possible that he, who has not learned to murder his neighbour
with a grace, is imperfect in the trade of man ?
If it be replied, " that the generating of error is not inseparable
from military discipline, and that men may at some time be suffi-
ciently guarded against the abuse, even while they are taught the
use of arms;" it will be found upon reflection that this argument
is of little w r eight. If error be not unalterably connected with the
science of arms, it will for a long time remain se< When men are
sufficiently improved, to be able to handle, familiarly, and with
application of mind, the instruments of death, without injury to
their dispositions, they will also be sufficiently improved, to be
able to master any study with much greater facility than at pre-
sent, and consequently the cultivation of the art military in time
of peace, will have still fewer inducements to recommend it to our
choice. To apply these considerations to the present situation of
mankind.
We have already seen that the system of a standing army is
altogether indefensible, and that a universal militia is a more for-
midable defence, as well as more agreeable to the principles of
justice and political happiness. It remains to be seen, what would
be the real situation of a nation, surrounded by other nations, in
the midst of which standing armies were maintained, that should
nevertheless, upon principle, wholly neglect the art military in
seasons of peace. In such a nation it will probably be admitted,
that, so far as relates to mere numbers, an army may be raised
upon the spur of occasion, nearly as soon, as in a nation the
citizens of which had been taught to be soldiers. But this nrmy,
though numerous, would be in want of many of those principles
of combination and activity, which are of material importance in
a day of battle. There is indeed included in the supposition,
that the internal state of this people, is more equal and free, than
that of the people by whom they are invaded. This will infallibly
be the case, in a comparison, between a people with a standing
21. VOL. n. G
82 OF MILITARY ESTABLISHMENTS
army, and a people without one ; between a people, who can be
brought blindly and wickedly to the invasion of their peaceful
neighbours, and a people, who will not be induced to fight but in
their own defence. The latter therefore will be obliged to com-
pare the state of society and government, in their own country,
and among their neighbours, and will not fail to be impressed
with great ardour in defence of the inestimable superiority they
possess. Ardour, even in the day of battle, might prove sufficient.
A body of men, however undisciplined, whom nothing could
induce to quit the field, would infallibly be victorious over their
veteran adversaries, who, under the circumstances of the case,
could have no accurate conception of the object for which they were
fighting, and therefore could not entertain an inextinguishable love
for it. It is not certain that activity and discipline, opposed to
ardour, have even a tendency to turn the balance of slaughter
against the party that wants them. Their great advantage con-
sists, in their power over the imagination, to astonish, to terrify,
and confound. An intrepid courage in the party thus assailed,
would soon convert them, from sources of despair, into objects of
contempt.
But it would be extremely unwise in us, to have no other re-
source, but in the chance of this intrepidity. A resource, much
surer, and more agreeable to justice, is in recollecting that the
war of which we treat, is a war of defence. Battle is not the ob-
ject of such a war. An army, which, like that of Fabius, by
keeping on the hills, or by whatever other means, rendered it
impracticable for the enemy to force them to an engagement,
might look with indifference upon his impotent efforts to enslave
the country. One advantage, included in such a system of war,
is that, as its very essence is protraction, the defending army
might, iii a short time, be rendered as skilful as the assailants.
Discipline, like every other art, has been represented, by vain
and interested men, as surrounded with imaginary difficulties, but
is, in reality, exceedingly simple; and would be learned much
more effectually in the scene of a real war, than in the puppet-
show exhibitions of a period of peace.
It is desirable indeed that we should have a commander of
considerable skill, or rather of considerable wisdom, to reduce
this patient and indefatigable system into practice. This is of
greater importance, than the mere discipline of the ranks. But
the nature of military wisdom has been greatly misrepresented.
Experience in this, as well as in other arts, has been unreasonably
magnified, and the general power of a cultivated mind been thrown
into shade. It will probably be no long time, before this quackery
of professional men will be thoroughly exploded. How often do
we meet with those whom experience finds incorrigible ; while it
is recorded of one of the greatest generals of antiquity, that he set
out for his appointment wholly unacquainted with his art, and
was indebted for that skill, which broke out immediately upon
ais arrival, to the assiduity of his enquiries, and a careful examina
8TWa> AND TREATIES. S3
tion of those writers by whom the art had most successfully been
illustrated?* In all events it will be admitted, that the main-
tenance of a standing army, or the perpetual discipline of a nation,
is a very dear price to pay for the purchase of a general, as \\ell
as that the purchase would be extremely precarious, if we were
even persuaded to consent to the condition. It may perhaps be
true, though this is not altogether clear, that a nation by whom
military discipline was wholly neglected, would be exposed to
some disadvantage. In that case, it becomes us to weigh the
neglect and cultivation together, and to cast the balance on the
side to which, upon mature examination, it shall appear to belong.
A second article which belongs to the military system in a sea-
son of peace, is that of treaties of alliance. This subject may
easily be dispatched. Treaties of alliance, if we examine and
weigh the history of mankind, will perhaps be found to have been,
in all cases, nugatory, or worse. Governments, and public men,
will not, and ought not, to hold themselves bound to the injury of
the concerns they conduct, because a parchment, to which they or
their predecessors were a party, requires it. If the concert de-
manded in time of need, approve itself to their judgment, and cor-
respond with their inclination, it will be yielded, though they are
under no previous engagement for that purpose. Treaties ot
alliance serve to no other end, than to exhibit, by their violation,
an appearance of profligacy and vice, which unfortunately becomes
too often a powerful encouragement to the inconsistency of indi-
viduals. Add to this, that if alliances were engines as powerful,
as they are really impotent, they could seldom be of use to a
nation uniformly adhering to the principles of justice. They
would be useless, because they are, in reality, ill calculated for
any other purposes than those of ambition. They might be per-
nicious, because it would be beneficial for nations, as it is for in-
dividuals, to look for resources at home, instead of depending
upon the precarious compassion of their neighbours.
It would be unjust, to dismiss the consideration of this most
dreadful, yet perhaps, in the present state of things, sometimes
unavoidable, calamity of war, without again reminding the reader
of its true character. It is that state of things, where a man
stands prepared to deal slaughter and death to his fellow-men.
Let us image to ourselves a human being, surveying, as soon as
his appetite for carnage is satiated, the scene of devastation he
has produced. Let us view him surrounded with the dying and
the dead, las arms bathed to the very elbow in their blood. Let
us investigate along with him the features of the field, attempt to
divide the wounded from the slain, observe their distorted coun-
tenances, their mutilated limbs, their convulsed and palpitating
flesh. Let us observe the long-drawn march of the hospital-
waggons, every motion attended with pangs unutterable, and
shrieks that rend the air. Let us enter the hospital itself, and
* Ciecronii Lucullus, tiw Acaekmicorwn Liber JSecundut, init.
o 2
84 OP DEMOCRACY AS CONNECTED WITH
note the desperate and dreadful cases that now call for the skill
of the surgeon, even omitting those to which neither skill nor
care is ever extended. Whence came all this misery? What
manner of creature shall we now adjudge the warrior to be?
What had these men done to him?. Alas! he knew them not;
they had never offended ; he smote them to the death, unprovoked
by momentary anger, coldly deliberating on faults of which they
were guiltless, and executing plans of .wilful and meditated de-
struction. Is not this man a murderer? Yet such is the man
who goes to battle, whatever be the cause that induces him.
Who that reflects on these things, does not feel himself prompted
to say, " Let who will engage in the business of war ; never will
I, on any pretence, lift up a sword against my brother ?"
We have entered, in these chapters, somewhat more at large
into the subject of war, than the question respecting it, as con-
nected with the principles of democracy might seem to require.
So far as this is a digression, the importance of the topic may
perhaps plead our excuse.
CHAP. XX.
OF DEMOCRACY AS CONNECTED WITH THE TRANSACTIONS OF WAK.
External affairs are of subordinate consideration. Application.
Further objections to democracy 1, it is unfavourable to secrecy
this proved to bt an excellence 2, its movements are too slow 3, too
pttoipitate.
HAVING thus endeavoured to reduce the question of war to its
true principles, it is time that we should recur to the maxim de-
livered at our entrance upon this subject, that individuals are
everything, and society, abstracted from the individuals of which
it is composed, nothing. An immediate consequence of this
maxim is, that the internal affairs of the society are entitled to
our principal attention, and the external are matters of inferior
and subordinate consideration. The internal affairs are subjects
of perpetual and hourly concern, the external are periodical and
precarious only. That every man should be impressed with the
consciousness of his independence, and rescued from the influence
of extreme want and artificial desires, are purposes the most in-
teresting that can suggest themselves to the human mind; but
the life of man might pass, in a state uncorrupted by ideal pas-
sions, without its tranquillity being so much as once disturbed
by foreign invasions. The influence that a certain number of
millions, born under the same climate with ourselves, and known,
by the common appellation of English or French, shall possess
over the administrative councils of their neighbour millions, is a
THE TRANSACTIONS OF WAR. 85
circumstance of much too airy and distant consideration, to
deserve to be made a principal object in the institutions of any
people. The best inlluence we can exert, is that of a sage and
upright example.
If therefore it should appear that, of these two articles, in-
ternal and external affairs, one must, in some degree, be sacri-
ficed to the other, and that a democracy will, in certain respects,
be less fitted for the affairs of war than some other species of
government, good sense will not hesitate in the alternative. We
shall have sufficient reason "to be satisfied, if, together with the
benefits of justice and virtue at home, we have no reason to
despair of our safety from abroad. A confidence in this article
will seldom deceive us, if our countrymen, however little trained
to formal rules, and the uniformity of mechanism, have studied
the profession of man, understand his attributes and his nature,
and have their necks unbroken to the yoke of blind credulity and
abject submission. Such men, inured, as we are now supposing
them, to a rational state of society, will be full of calm confidence
and penetrating activity, and these qualities will stand them iti
stead of a thousand lessons in the school of military mechanism
If democracy can be proved adequate to wars of defence, and
other governments be better fitted for wars of a different sort,
this would be an argument, not of its imperfection, but its merit.
It has been one of the objections to the ability of a democracy
in war, " that it cannot keep secrets. The legislative assembly,
whether it possess the initiative, or a power of control only, in
executive affairs, will be perpetually calling for papers, plans, and
information, cross-examining ministers, and sifting the policy
and justice of public undertakings. How shall we be able to
cope with an enemy, if he know precisely the points we mean to
attack, the state of our fortifications, and the strength and weak-
ness of our armies ? How shall we manage our treaties with
skill and address, if he be precisely informed of our sentiments,
and have access to the instructions of our ambassadors ?"
It happens in this instance, that that which the objection
attacks as the vice of democracy, is one of its most essential
excellencies. The trick of a mysterious carriage is the prolific
parent of every vice ; and it is an eminent advantage inci-
dent to democracy, that, though the proclivity of the human mind
has hitherto reconciled this species of administration, in some
degree, to the keeping of secrets, its inherent tendency is to
annihilate them. Why should disingenuity and concealment be
thought virtuous or beneficial on the part of nations, in cases
where they would inevitably be discarded with contempt, by an
upright individual? Where is there an ingenuous and en-
lightened man, who is not aware of the superior advantage, that
belongs to a proceeding, frank, explicit, and direct? Who is
there that sees not, that this inextricable labyrinth of reason^ of
state, was artfully invented, lest the people should understand
their own affairs, and, understanding, become inclined to conduct
86 OF DEMOCRACY AS CONNECTED WITH
them ? With respect to treaties, it is to be suspected that they
are, in all instances, superfluous. But, if public engagements
ought to be entered into, what essential difference is there
between the governments of two countries endeavouring to over-
reach each other, and the buyer and seller in any private transac-
tion adopting a similar proceeding ?
This whole system proceeds upon the idea of national grandeur
and glory, as if, in reality, these words had any specific meaning.
These contemptible objects, these airy names, have, from the
earliest page of history, been made a colour for the most perni-
cious undertakings. Let us take a specimen of their value from
the most innocent and laudable pursuits. If I aspire to be a
great poet or a great historian, so far as I am influenced by the
dictates of reason, it is that I may be useful to mankind, and not
that I may do honour to my country. Is Newton the better,
because he was an Englishman ; or Galileo the worse, because he
was an Italian ? Who can endure to put this high-sounding non-
sense in the balance, against the best interests of mankind, which
will always suffer a mortal wound, when dexterity, artifice, and
concealment, are made the topics of admiration and applause?
The understanding and the virtues of mankind, will always keep
pace with the manly simplicity of their designs, and the undis-
guised integrity of their hearts.
It has further been objected to a dcmocratical state, in its
transactions with foreign powers, " that it is incapable of those
rapid and decisive proceedings which, in some situations, have so
eminent a tendency to insure success." If by this objection it be
understood, that a democratical state is ill fitted for dexterity and
surprise, the rapidity of an assassin, it has already received a
sufficient answer. If it be meant, that the regularity of its
proceedings may ill accord with the impatience of a neigh-
bouring despot, and, like the Jews of old, we desire a king
" that we may be like the other nations," this is a very unreason-
able requisition. A just and impartial enquirer will be little
desirous to see his country placed high in the diplomatical roll,
deeply involved in the intrigues of nations, and assiduously
courted by foreign princes, as the instrument of their purposes.
A more groundless and absurd passion cannot seize upon any
people, than that of glory, the preferring their influence in the
affairs of the globe, to their internal happiness and virtue ; for
these objects will perpetually counteract and clash with each other.
But democracy is by no means necessarily of a phlegmatic
character, or obliged to take every proposition that is made to it,
ad referendum, for the consideration of certain primary assem-
blies, like the states of Holland. The first principle in the insti-
tution of government itself, is the necessity, under the present
imperfections of mankind, of having some man, or body of men,
to act on the part of the whole. Wherever government subsists,
the authority of the individual must be, in some degree, super-
seded. It does not therefore seem unreasonable, for a representa-
OF THE COMPOSITION OF GOVERNMENT. 87
tive national assembly to exercise, in certain cases, a discretionary
power. Those privileges, which are vested in individuals, selected
out of the mass by the voice of their fellows, and who will
speedily return to a private station, are by no means liable to the
same objections, as the exclusive and unsympathetic privileges
of an aristocracy. Representation, together with many disad-
vantages, has this benefit, that it is able, impartially, and with
discernment, to call upon the most enlightened part of the nation
to deliberate for the whole, and may thus generate a degree of
wisdom, and a refined penetration of sentiment, which it would
have been unreasonable to expect as the result of primary assem-
blies.
A third objection more frequently offered against democratical
government is, " that it is incapable of that mature and deliberate
proceeding, -which is alone suitable to the decision of such im-
portant concerns. Multitudes of men have appeared subject to
fits of occasional insanity : they act from the influence of rage,
suspicion, and despair : they are liable to be hurried into the most
unjustifiable extremes, by the artful practices of an impostor."
One of the most obvious answers to this objection is, that for all
men to share the privileges of all, is the law of our nature, and
the dictate of justice. The case in this instance, is parallel to
that of an individual in his private concerns. It is true that,
while each man is master of his own affairs, he is liable to the
starts of passion. He is attacked by the allurements of tempta-
tion and the tempest of rage, and may be guilty of fatal error,
before reflection and judgment come forward to his aid. But this
is no sufficient reason for depriving men of the direction of their
own concerns. We should endeavour to make them wise, not to
make them slaves. The depriving men of their self-government
is, in the first place, unjust, while, in the second, this self-govern-
ment, imperfect as it is, will be found more salutary than anything
that can be substituted in its place. Another answer to this ob-
jection will occur in the concluding chapters of the present book.
CHAP. XXL
OF THE COMPOSITION OF GOVERNMENT.
Houses of assembly. This institution unjust. Deliberate proceeding the
proper antidote. Separation of legislative and executive power con-
sidered. Superior importance of' the latter. Functions of ministers.
ONE of the articles which has been most eagerly insisted on, by
the advocates of complexity in political institutions, is that of
" checks, by which a rash proceeding may be prevented, and the
provisions under which mankind have hitherto lived with tran-
88 OF THE COMPOSITION OF GOVERNMENT.
quillity, may not be reversed without mature deliberation." We
will suppose that Ihe evils of monarchy and aristocracy are, by
this time, too notorious, to incline the speculative enquirer to
seek for a remedy in either of these. " Yet it is possible, without
the institution of privileged orders, to find means that may answer
a similar purpose in this respect. The representatives of the
people may be distributed, for example, into two assemblies ; they
may be chosen with this particular view, to constitute an upper
and a lower house, and may be distinguished from each other,
either by various qualifications of age or fortune, or by being-
chosen, by a greater or smaller number of electors, or for a shorter
or longer term."
To every inconvenience, that experience can produce, or imagi-
nation suggest, there is probably an appropriate remedy. This
remedy may either be sought in a more strict prosecution of the
principles of reason and justice, or in artificial combinations en-
croaching upon those principles. Which are we to prefer ? No
doubt, the institution of two houses of assembly, is contrary to
the primary dictates of reason and justice. How shall a nation
be governed ? Agreeably to the opinions of its inhabitants, or in
opposition to them ? Agreeably to them undoubtedly. Not, as
we cannot too often repeat, because their opinion is a standard of
truth, but because, however erroneous that opinion may be, we
can do no better. There is no effectual way of improving the
institutions of any people, but by enlightening their understand-
ings. He that endeavours to maintain the authority of any
sentiment, not by argument, but by force, may intend a benefit,
but really inflicts an extreme injury. To suppose that truth can
be instilled, through any medium, but that of its intrinsic evidence,
is a flagrant and pernicious error. He that believes the most
fundamental proposition, through the influence of authority, does
not believe a truth, but a falsehood. The proposition itself he
does not understand, for thoroughly to understand it, is to per-
ceive the degree of evidence with which it is accompanied ; is to
know the full meaning of its terms, and, by necessary conse-
quence, to perceive in what respects they agree or disagree with
each other. All that he believes is, that it is very proper he should
submit to usurpation and injustice.
It was imputed to the late government of France, that, when
they called an assembly of notables in 1787, they contrived, by
dividing the assembly into seven distinct corps, and not allowing
them to vote otherwise than in these corps, that the vote of fifty
persons should be capable of operating, as if they were a majority,
in an assembly of one hundred and forty-four. It would have
been still worse, if it had been ordained that no measure should
be considered as the measure of the assembly, unless it were
adopted by the unanimous voice of all the corps : eleven persons
might then, in voting a negative, have operated as a majority of
one hundred and forty -four. This may serve as a specimen of
the effects of distributing a representative national assembly into
OF THE COMPOSITION OF GOVERNMENT. 89
two or more houses. Nor should we suffer ourselves to be de-
ceived, under the pretence, of the innocence of a negative in
comparison with an affirmative. In a country in which universal
justice was already established, there would be little need of a
representative assembly. lu a country into whose institutions
error has insinuated itself, a negative upon the repeal of those
errors, is the real affirmative.
The institution of two houses of assembly, is the direct method
to divide a nation against itself. One of these houses will, in a
greater or loss degree be the asylum of usurpation, monopoly, and
privilege. Parties would expire, as soon as they were born, in a
country, where opposition of sentiments, and a struggle of interests,
were not allowed to assume the formalities of distinct insti-
tution.
Meanwhile, a species of check perfectly simple, and which
appears sufficiently adequate to the purpose, suggests itself, in the
idea of a slow and deliberate proceeding, which the representa-
tive assembly should prescribe to itself. Perhaps no proceeding
-f this assembly should have the force of a general regulation,
till it had undergone five or six successive discussions in the as-
sembly, or till the expiration of one month from the period of its
being proposed. Something like this is the order of the English
house of commons, nor docs it appear to be, by any means,
among the worst features of our constitution. A system like this,
would be sufficiently analogous to the proceedings of a wise in-
dividual, who certainly would not wish to determine upon the
most important concerns of his life, without a severe examina-
tion ; and still less would omit this examination, if his decision
were destined to be a rule for the conduct, and a criterion to
determine upon the rectitude, of other men.
Perhaps, as we have said, this slow and gradual proceeding
ought, in no instance, to be dispensed with, by the national
representative assembly. This seems to be the true line of sepa-
ration, between the functions of the assembly as such, and the
executive power, whether we suppose the executive separate, or
simply place it in a committee of the representative body. A plan
of this sort, would produce a character of gravity and good sense,
eminently calculated to fix the confidence of the citizens. The mere
votes of the assembly, as distinguished from its acts and decrees,
might serve as an encouragement to the public functionaries, and
as affording a basis of expectation, respecting the speedy cure of
those evils of which the public might complain ; but they should
never be allowed to be pleaded as the complete justification of
any action. A precaution like this, would not only tend to pre-
vent the fatal consequences of any precipitate judgment of the
assembly within itself, but of tumult and disorder from without.
An artful demagogue would find it more easy, to work up the
people into a fit of momentary insanity, than to retain them in
it for a month, in opposition to the efforts of their real friends to
undeceive them. Meanwhile, the consent of the assembly to take
90 OF THE COMPOSITION OF GOVERNMENT.
their demand into consideration, might reasonably be expected
to moderate their impatience.
Scarcely any plausible argument can be adduced, in favour of
what has been denominated by political writers, a division of
powers. Nothing can seem less reasonable, than to prescribe
any positive limits to the topics of deliberation in an assembly
adequately representing the people; or peremptorily to forbid
them the exercise of functions, the depositaries of which are
placed under their inspection and censure. Perhaps, upon any
emergence, totally unforeseen at the time of their election, and
uncommonly important, they would prove their wisdom, by call-
ing upon the people to elect a new assembly, with a direct
view to that emergence. But the emergence, as we shall have-
occasion more fully to observe in the sequel, cannot with any
propriety be prejudged, and a rule laid down for their conduct,
by a body prior to, or distinct from, themselves. The distinction
of legislative and execiitive powers, however intelligible in theory,
will by no means authorise their separation and practice.
Legislation, that is, the authoritative enunciation of abstract
or general propositions, is a function of equivocal nature, and
will never be exercised in a pure state of society or a state
approaching to purity, but with great caution and unwillingness.
It is the most absolute of the functions of government, and
government itself is a remedy that inevitably brings its own evils
along with it. Administration, on the other hand, is a principle
of perpetual application. So long as men shall see reason to act
in a corporate capacity, they will always have occasions of tem-
porary emergency for which to provide. In proportion as they
advance in social improvement, executive power will, compa-
ratively speaking, become everything, and legislative nothing.
Even at present, can there be any articles of greater importance
than those of peace and war, taxation, and the selection of proper
periods for the meeting of deliberative assemblies, which, as was
observed in the commencement of the present book, are articles
of temporary regulation?* Is it decent, can it be just, that
these prerogatives should be exercised by any power less than
the supreme, or be decided by any authority, but that which most
adequately represents the voice of the nation ? This principle
ought, beyond question, to be extended universally. There can
be no just reason for excluding the national representative from
the exercise of any function, the exercise of which, on the part
of the society, is, in any case, necessary.
The functions therefore of ministers and magistrates, com-
mc-nly so called, do not relate to any particular topic, respecting
which they have a right exclusive of the representative assembly.
They do not relate to any supposed necessity for secrecy ; for
secrecy, in political affairs, as we have had occasion to perceive, f
is rarely salutary or wise ; and secrets of state, will commonly
* Chap. I., p. 2. + Chap. XVIII., p. 77 ; Chap. XX., p. 85.
OF THE FUTURE HISTORY, ETC. 91
be found to consist of that species of information relative to the
interests of a society, respecting which the chief anxiety of its
depositaries is, that it should be concealed from the members of
that society. It is the duty of the assembly to desire informa-
tion without reserve, for themselves and the public, upon every
subject of general importance ; and it is the duty of ministers
and others to communicate such information, though it should
not be expressly desired. The utility therefore of ministerial
functions being, in a majority of instances, less than nothing in
these respects, there are only two classes of utility that remain
to them ; particular functions, such as those of financial detail or
minute superintendence, which cannot be exercised unless by one
or a small number of persons;* and measures, proportioned to
the demand of those necessities which will not admit of delay,
and subject to the revision and censure of the deliberative assem-
bly. The latter of these classes will perpetually diminish as men
advance in improvement; nor can anything politically be of
greater importance, than the reduction of that discretionary
power in an individual, which may greatly affect the interests, or
fetter the deliberations of the many.
-
CHAP. XXII.
OF THE FUTURE HISTORY OF POLITICAL SOCIETIES.
Quantity of administration necessary to be maintained. Objects of
administration : national glory rivalship of nations. Inferences :
1, complication of government unnecessary 2, extensive territory
superfluous 3, constraint, its limitations. Project of government :
police defence.
THUS we have endeavoured to unfold and establish certain general
principles, upon the subject of legislative and executive power.
But there is one interesting topic that remains to be discussed.
How much of either of these powers does the public benefit
require us to maintain ?
We have already seen,f that the only legitimate object of
political institution, is the advantage of individuals. All that
cannot be brought home to them, national wealth, prosperity and
glory, can be advantageous only to those self-interested impos-
tors, who, from the earliest accounts of time, have confounded
the understandings of mankind, the more securely to sink them in
debasement and misery.
The desire to gain a more extensive territory, to conquer or to
hold in awe our neighbouring states, to surpass them in arta
* Chap. I., p. 2. t Chap. XVI., p. 70 ; Chap. XX., p. 86.
02 OF THE FUTURE HISTORY
or arms, is a desire founded in prejudice and error. Usurped
authority is a sptirious and unsubstantial medium of happiness.
Security and peace are more to be desired, than a national
splendour that should terrify the world. Mankind are brethren.
We associate in a particular district, or under a particular climate,
because association is necessary to our internal tranquillity, or to
defend us against the wanton attacks of a common enemy. But
the rivalship of nations is a creature of the imagination. If
riches be our object, riches can only be created by commerce :
and the greater is our neighbour's capacity to buy, the greater will
be our opportunity to sell. The prosperity of all is the interest of all.
The more accurately we understand our own advantage, the
less shall we be disposed to disturb the peace of our neighbour.
The same principle is applicable to him in return. It becomes
xis therefore to desire that he may be wise. But wisdom is the
growth of equality and independence, not of injury and oppres-
sion. If oppression had been the school of wisdom, the improva-
nient of mankind would have been inestimable, for they have
been in that school for many thousand years. We ought there-
fore to desire that our neighbour should be independent. We
ought to desire that he should be free ; for wars do not originate
in the unbiassed propensities of nations, but in the cabals of
government and the propensities that governments inspire into
the people at large.* If our neighbour invade our territory, ail
we should desire is to repel him from it ; j- and, for that purpose,
it is not necessary we should surpass him in prowess, since upon
our own ground his match is unequal. J Not to say that to con-
ceive a nation attacked by another, so long as its own conduct is
sober, equitable and moderate, is an exceedingly improbable sup-
position.
Where nations are not brought into avowed hostility, all
jealousy between them is an unintelligible chimera. I reside
upon a certain spot, because that residence is most conducive to
my happiness or usefulness. I am interested in the political
justice and virtue of my species, because they are men, that is,
creatures eminently capable of justice and virtue; and I have
perhaps additional reason to interest myself for those who live
under the same government as myself, because I am better quali-
fied to understand their claims, and more capable of exerting
myself in their behalf. But I can certainly have no interest in
the infliction of pain \ipon others, unless so far as they are ex-
pressly engaged in acts of injustice. The object of sound policy
and morality is to draw men nearer to each other, not to separate
them ; to unite their interests, not to oppose them.
Individuals ought, no doubt, to cultivate a more frequent and
confidential intercourse with each other than at present subsists;
but political societies of men, as such, have no interests to explain
and adjust, except so far as error and violence may render ex-
* Chap. XVI. * Chap. XVII. * Chap. XVIII.
OP POLITICAL SOCIETIES. 93
planation necessary. This consideration annihilates, at once, tho
principal objects of that mysterious and crooked policy, which
has hitherto occupied the attention of governments. Before this
principle, officers of the army and the navy, ambassadors and
negociators, all the train of artifices that has been invented to
hold other nations at bay, to penetrate their secrets, to traverse
their machination?, to form alliances and counter-alliances, sink
into nothing. The expence of government is annihilated, and,
together with its expence, the means of subduing and undermin-
ing the virtues of its subjects.*
Another of the great opprobriums of political science, is, at the
same time, completely removed, that extent of territory, subject
to one head, respecting which philosophers and moralists have
alternately disputed, whether it be most unfit for a monarchy, or
for a democratical government. . The appearance which mankind,
in a future state of improvement, may be expected to assume, is
a policy that, in different countries, will wear a similar form,
because we have all the same faculties and the same wants ; but
a policy, the independent branches of which will extend their
authority over a small territory, because neighbours are best in-
formed of each other's concerns, and are perfectly equal to their
adjustment. No recommendation can be imagined of an exten-
sive, rather than a limited territory, except that of external
security.
Whatever evils are included in the abstract idea of government,
they are all of them extremely aggravated by the extensiveness of
its jurisdiction, and softened under circumstances of an opposite
nature. Ambition, which may be no less formidable than a pes-
tilence in the former, has no room to unfold itself in the latter.
Popular commotion is like the waters of the earth, capable, where
the surface is large, of producing the most tragical effects, but
mild arid innocuous, when confined within the circuit of an
humble lake. Sobriety and equity are the obvious characteristics
of a limited circle.
It may indeed be objected, "that great talents are the offspring
of great passions, and that, in the quiet mediocrity of a petty re-
public, the powers of intellect may be expected to subside into
inactivity." This objection, if true, would be entitled to the most
serious consideration. But it is to be considered that, upon the
hypothesis here advanced, the whole human species would con-
stitute, in some sense, one great republic, and the prospects of
him who desired to act beneficially upon a great surface of mind,
would become more animating than ever. During the period, in
which this state was growing, but not yet complete, the com-
parison of the blessings we enjoyed, with the iniquities practising
among our neighbours, would afford an additional stimulus to
exertion, f
* Hume's Essays, Part I.. Essay V.
r This objection will be fully discussed in the eighth book of the present
94 OF THE FUTURE HISTORY
Ambition and tumult, arc evils that arise out of government, in
an indirect manner, in consequence of the habits, which govern-
ment introduces, of concert and combination extending themselves
over multitudes of men. There are other evils inseparable from
its existence. The object of government, is the suppression of
such violence, as well external as internal, as might destroy, or
bring into jeopardy, trie well being of the community or its
members ; and the means it employs, are constraint and violence
of a more regulated kind. For this purpose the concentration of
individual forces becomes necessary, and the method in which
this concentration is usually obtained, is also constraint. The
evils of constraint have been considered on a former occasion.*
Constraint, employed against delinquents, or persons to whom
delinquency is imputed, is by no means without its mischiefs.
Constraint, employed by the majority of a society, against the
minority, who may differ from them upon some question of public
good, is calculated, at first sight at least, to excite a still greater
disapprobation.
Both these exertions may indeed appear to rest upon the same
principle. Vice is unquestionably no more, in the first instance,
than error of judgment, and nothing can justify an attempt to
correct it by force, but the extreme necessity of the case.f The
minority, if erroneous, fall under precisely the same general de-
scription, though their error may not be of equal magnitude. But
the necessity of the case can seldom be equally impressive. If
the idea of secession, for example, were somewhat more familiar-
ised to the conceptions of mankind, it could seldom happen, that
the secession of the minority from difference of opinion, could in
any degree compare, in mischievous tendency, with the hostility
of a criminal, offending against the most obvious principles of
social justice. The cases are parallel to those of offensive and
defensive war. In putting constraint upon a minority, we yield
to a suspicious temper, that tells us the opposing party may
hereafter, in some way, injure us, and we will anticipate his
injury. In putting constraint upon a criminal, we seem to
repel an enemy, who has entered our territory, and refuses to
quit it.
Government can have no more than two legitimate purposes,
the suppression of injustice against individuals within the com-
munity, and the common defence against external invasion. The
first of these purposes, which alone can have an uninterrupted
claim upon us, is sufficiently answered, by an association, of such
an extent, as to afford room for the institution of a jury, to decide
upon the offences of individuals within the community, and upon
the questions and controversies, respecting property, which may
chance to arise. It might be easy indeed for an offender, to
escape from the limits of so petty a jurisdiction; and it might
* Book II., Chap. VI.
* Book II., Chap. VI. ; Book IV., Chap. VIII.
OF POLITICAL SOCIETIES. 95
seem necessary, at first, that the neighbouring parishes,* or
jurisdictions, should be governed in a similar manner, or at least
should be willing, whatever was their form of government, to
eo-opcrate with us, in the removal or reformation of an offender,
whose present habits were alike injurious to us and to them.
But there will be no need of any express compact, and still less
of any common centre of authority, for this purpose. General
justice, and mutual interest, are found more capable of binding
men, than signatures and seals. In the mean time, all necessity
for causing the punishment of the crime to pursue the criminal,
would soon, at least, cease, if it ever existed. The motives to
offence would become rare : its aggravations few : and rigour
superfluous. The principal object of punishment, is restraint
upon a dangerous member of the community ; and the end of
this restraint would be answered, by the general inspection, that
is exercised by the members of a limited circle, over the conduct
of each other, and by the gravity and good sense that would cha-
racterise the censures of men, from whom all mystery and empi-
ricism were banished. No individual would be hardy enough in
the cause of vice, to defy the general consent of sober judgment
that would surround him. It would carry despair to his mind, or,
which is better, it would carry conviction. He would be obliged,
by a force not less irresistible than whips and chains, to reform,
his conduct.
In this sketch is contained the rude outline of political govern-
ment. Controversies between parish and parish, would be, in an
eminent degree, unreasonable, since, if any question arose, about
limits, for example, the obvious principles of convenience could
scarcely fail to teach us, to what district any portion of land
should belong. No association of men, so long as they adhered
to the principles of reason, could possibly have an interest in ex-
tending their territory. If we would produce attachment in our
associates, we can adopt no surer method, than that of practising
the dictates of equity and moderation ; and, if this failed in any
instance, it could only fail with him who, to whatever society he
belonged, would prove an unworthy member. The duty of any
society to punish offenders, is not dependent, upon the hypo-
thetical consent of the offender to be punished, but upon the duty
of necessary defence.
But however irrational might be the controversy of parish with
parish in such a state of society, it would not be the less possible.
For such extraordinary emergencies therefore, provision ought to
be made. These emergencies are similar in their nature, to those
of foreign invasion. They can only be provided against by the
concert of several districts, declaring and, if needful, enforcing the
dictates of justice.
* The word parish, is here used, -without regard to its origin, and merely
in consideration of its being a word, descriptive of a certain small portion of
territory, whether in population or extent, which custom has rendered
familiar to us,
06 OF NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES.
One of the most obvious remarks that suggests itseif, upon these
two cases, of hostility between district and district, and of foreign
invasion which the interest of all calls upon them jointly to repel,
is, that it is their nature to be only of occasional recurrence, and
that therefore the provisions to be made respecting them, need
not be, in the strictest sense, of perpetual operation. In other
words, the permanence of a national assembly, as it has hitherto
been practised in France, cannot be necessary in a period of tran-
quillity, and may perhaps be pernicious. That we may form a
more accurate judgment of this, let us recollect some of the
principal features that enter into the constitution of a national
assembly.
CHAPTER XXIII.
OF NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES.
They produce a fictitious unanimity an unnatural uniformity of opinion.
Causes of this uniformity. Consequences of the mode of decision by
vote 1, perversion of reason 2, contentious disputes 3, the
triumph of ignorance and vice. Society incapable of acting from itself
of being well-conducted by others. Conclusion. Modification of
democracy that results from these considerations.
IN the first place, the existence of a national assembly introduces
the evils of a fictitious unanimity. The public, guided by such an
assembly, must act with concert, or the assembly is a nugatory
excrescence. But it is impossible that this unanimity can really
exist. The individuals who constitute a nation, cannot take into
consideration a variety of important questions, without forming
different sentiments respecting them. In reality, all questions
that are brought before such an assembly, are decided by a
majority of votes, and the minority, after having exposed, with all
the power of eloquence and force of reasoning of which they are
capable, the injustice and follies of the measures adopted, are
obliged, in a certain sense, to assist in carrying them into execu-
tion. Nothing can more directly contribute to the depravation of
the human understanding and character. It inevitably renders
mankind timid, dissembling, and corrupt. He that is not accus-
tomed, exclusively to act upon the dictates of his own under-
standing, must fall inexpressibly short of that energy and
simplicity of which our nature is capable. He that contributes
his personal exertions, or his property, to the support of a cause
which he believes to be unjust, will quickly lose that accurate
discrimination and nice sensibility of moral rectitude, which are
the^ principal ornaments of reason.
Secondly, the existence of national councils produces a certain
OF NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES. 97
species of real unanimity, unnatural in its character, and per-
nicio\is in its effects. The genuine and wholesome state of mind
is, to be unloosed from shackles, and to expand every fibre of its
frame, according to the independent and individual* impressions
of truth upon that mind. How great would be the progress of
intellectual improvement, if men were unfettered by the prejudices
of education, unseduced by the influence of a corrupt stale of
society, and accustomed to yield without fear, to the guidance of
truth, however unexplored might be the regions, and unexpected
the conclusions to which she conducted us ? We cannot advance
in the voyage of happiness, unless we be wholly at large upon the
stream that would carry us thither : the anchor that we at first
looked upon as the instrument of our safety will, at last, be found
to be the means of detaining our progress. Unanimity of a certain
sort, is the result to which perfect freedom of inquiry is calculated
to conduct us ; and this unanimity would, in a state of perfect
freedom, become hourly more conspicuous. But the unanimity,
that results from men's having a visible standard by which to
adjust their sentiments, is deceitful and pernicious.
In numerous assemblies, a thousand motives influence our
judgments, independently of reason and evidence. Every man
looks forward to the effects which the opinions he avows, will
produce on his success. Every man connects himself with some
sect or party. The activity of his thought is shackled at every
turn, by the fear that his associates may disclaim him. This
effect is strikingly visible in the present state of the British par-
liament, where men, whose faculties are comprehensive almost
beyond all former example, may probably be found influenced by
these motives, sincerely to espouse the grossest and most con-
temptible errors.
Thirdly, the debates of a national assembly are distorted from
their reasonable tenour, by the necessity of their being uniformly
terminated by a vote. Debate and discussion are, in their own
nature, highly conducive to intellectual improvement ; but they
lose this salutary character the moment they are subjected to this
unfortunate condition. What can be more unreasonable than to
demand that argument, the usual quality of which is gradually
and imperceptibly to enlighten the mind, should declare its effect
in the close of a single conversation ? No sooner does this cir-
cumstance occur, than the whole scene changes its character.
The orator no longer inquires after permanent conviction, but
transitory effect. He seeks rather to take advantage of our pre-
judices, than to enlighten our judgment. That which might other-
wise have been a scene of patient and beneficent inquiry, is
changed into wrangling, tumult, and precipitation.
Another circumstance that arises out of the decision by vote, is
the necessity of constructing a form of words, that shall best meet
the sentiments, and be adapted to the preconceived ideas of a
mul'itude of men. What can be conceived, at once more
ludicrous and disgraceful, than the spectacle of a set of rational
22. VOL. ii. H
98 OP NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES.
beings employed for hours together in weighing particles, and
adjusting commas ? Such is the scene that is incessantly wit-
nessed in clubs and private societies. In parliaments, this sort of
business is usually adjusted before the measure becomes a subject
of public inspection. But it does not the less exist : and some-
times it occurs in the other mode, so that, when numerous
amendments have been made to suit the corrupt interest of im-
perious pretenders, the Herculean task remains at last, to reduce
the chaos into a grammatical and intelligible form.
The whole is then wound up, with that flagrant insult upon all
reason and justice, the deciding upon truth by the casting up of
numbers. Thus everything that we have been accustomed to
esteem most sacred is determined, at best, by the weakest heads
in the assembly ; but, as it not less frequently happens, through
the influence of the most corrupt and dishonourable intentions.
In the last place, national assemblies will by no means be
thought to deserve our direct approbation, if we recollect, for a
moment, the absurdity of that fiction, by which society is con-
sidered, as it has been termed, as a moral individual. It is in
vain that we endeavour to counteract the laws of nature and
necessity. A multitude of men, after all our ingenuity, will still
remain a multitude of men. Nothing can intellectually unite
them, short of equal capacity and identical perception. So long
as the varieties of mind shall remain, the force of society can no
otherwise be concentrated, than by one man, for a shorter or
a longer term, taking the lead of the rest, and employing their
force, whether material or dependent on the weight of their
character, in a mechanical manner, just as he would employ the
force of a tool or a machine. All government corresponds, in a
certain degree, to what the Greeks denominated a tyranny. The
difference is that, in despotic countries, mind is depressed by an
uniform usurpation ; while, in republics, it preserves a greater
portion of its activity, and the usurpation more easily conforms
itself to the fluctuations of opinion.
The pretence of collective wisdom is among the most palpable
of all impostures. The acts of the society can never rise above
the suggestions of this or that individual, who is a member of it.
Let us inquire whether society, considered as an agent, can really
become the equal of certain individuals, of whom it is composed.
And here, without staying to examine what ground we have to
expect, that the wisest member of the society will actually take
the lead in it, we find two obvious reasons to persuade us, that,
whatever be the degree of wisdom inherent in him that really
superintends, the acts which he performs in the name of the
society, Avill be both less virtuous and less able than the acts he
might be expected to perform in a simpler and more unincum-
bcred situation. In the first place, there are few men who, with
the consciousness of being able to cover their responsibility under
the name of a society, will not venture upon measures, less direct
in their motives, or less justifiable in the experiment, than they
OF NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES. 99
would have chosen to adopt in their own persons. Secondly,
men who act under the name of a society, are deprived of that
activity and energy, which may belong to them in their individual
character. They have a multitude of followers to draw after
them, whose humours they must consult, and to whose slowness
of apprehension they must accommodate themselves. It is for
this reason that we frequently see men of the most elevated genius
dwindle into vulgar leaders, when they become involved in the
busy scenes of public life.
From these reasonings we seem sufficiently authorised to con-
clude, that national assemblies, or, in other words, assemblies in-
stituted for the joint purpose of adjusting the differences between
district and district, and of consulting respecting the best mode of
repelling foreign invasion, however necessary to be had recourse
to upon certain occasions, ought to be employed as sparingly as
the nature of the case will admit. They should either never be
elected but upon extraordinary emergencies, like the dictator of
the ancient Romans, or else sit periodically, one day for example
in a year, with a power of continuing their sessions within a cer-
tain limit, to hear the complaints and representations of their
constituents. The former of these modes is greatly to be pre-
ferred. Several of the reasons already adduced, are calculated to
show, that election itself is of a nature not to be employed,
but when the occasion demands it. There would probably be
little difficulty in suggesting expedients, relative to the regular
originating of national assemblies. It would be most suitable to
past habits and experience, that a general election should take
place, whenever a certain number of districts demanded it. It
would be most agreeable to rigid simplicity and equity, that
an assembly of two or two hundred districts should take place, in
exact proportion to the number of districts by whom that measure
was desired.
It will scarcely be denied, that the objections which have been
most loudly reiterated against democracy, become null in an
application to the form of government which has now been
delineated. Here we shall with difficulty find an opening for
tumult, for the tyranny of a multitude drunk with unlimited
power, for political ambition on the part of the few, or rest-
less jealousy and precaution on the part of the many. Here the
demagogue would discover no suitable occasion, for rendering the
multitude the blind instrument of his purposes. Men, in such a
state of society, might be expected to understand their happiness,
and to cherish it. The true reason why the mass of mankind
has so often been made the dupe of knaves, has been the myste-
rious and complicated nature of the social system. Once anni-
hilate the quackery of government, and the most homebred
understanding might be strong enough to detect the artifices, of
the state juggler that would mislead him.
H2
100 OF THE DISSOLUTION OF GOVERNMENT.
CHAP. XXIV.
OF THE DISSOLUTION O? GOVERNMENT.
Political authority of a national assembly of juries. Consequence
from the wJiole.
IT remains for us to consider, what is the degree of authority
necessary to be vested, in such a modified species of national
assembly as we have admitted into our system. Are they to issue
their commands to the different members of the confederacy ?
Or is it sufficient, that they should invite them to co-operate Ibi
the common advantage, and, by arguments and addresses, con-
vince them of the reasonableness of the measures they purpose ?
The former of these might at first be necessary. The latter
would afterwards become sufficient.* The Amphictyonic council
of Greece possessed no authority, but that which flowed from its
personal character. In proportion as the spirit of party was ex-
tirpated, as the restlessness of public commotion subsided, and as
the political machine became simple, the voice of reason would
be secure to be heard. An appeal, by the assembly, to the
several districts, would not fail to unite the approbation of
reasonable men, unless it contained in it something so evidently
questionable, as to make it perhaps desirable that it should prove
abortive.
This remark leads us one step further. Why should not the
same distinction between commands and invitations, which we
have just made in the case of national assemblies, be applied
to the particular assemblies or juries of the several districts ? At
first, we will suppose, that some degree of authority and violence
would be necessary. But this necessity does not appear to arise
out of the nature of man, but out of the institutions by which he
has been corrupted. Man is not originally vicious. He would
not refuse to listen to, or to be convinced by, the expostulations
that are addressed to him, had he not been accustomed to regard
them as hypocritical, and to conceive that, while his neighbour,
his parent, and his political governor, pretended to be actuated by
a pure regard to his interest or pleasure, they Avere, in reality, at
the expence of his, promoting their own. Such are the fatal
effects of mysteriousness and complexity. Simplify the social
system, in the manner which every motive, but those of usurpa-
* Such is the idea of the author of Gulliver's Travels [Part IV.], a man who
appears to have had a more profound insight into the true principles of
political justice, than any preceding- or contemporary author. It was unfor-
tunate, that a work of such inestimable wisdom failed, at the period of its
publication, from the mere playfulness of its form, in communicating 1 ade-
quate instruction to mankind. Posterity only will be able to estimate it as
it deserves.
OF THE DISSOLUTION OF GOVERNMENT. 101
lion and ambition, powerfully recommends ; render the plain
dictates of justice level to every capacity ; remove the necessity
of implicit faith ; and we may expect the whole species to become
reasonable and virtuous. It might then be sufficient for juries to
recommend a certain mode of adjusting controversies, without
assuming the prerogative of dictating that adjustment. It might
then be sufficient for them to invite offenders to forsake their
errors. If their expostulations proved, in a few instances,
ineffectual, the evils arising out of this circumstance, would be of
less importance, than those which proceed from the perpetual
violation of the exercise of private judgment. But, in reality, no
evils would arise : for, where the empire of reason was so univer-
sally acknowledged, the offender would either readily yield to
the expostulations of authority ; or, if he resisted, though suffer-
ing no personal molestation, he would feel so uneasy, under the
unequivocal disapprobation, and observant eye, of public judg-
ment, as willingly to remove to a society more congenial to his
errors.
The reader has probably anticipated the ultimate conclusion
from these remarks. If juries might at length cease to decide,
and be contented to invite, if force might gradually be withdrawn
and reason trusted alone, shall we not one day find, that juries
themselves, and every other species of public institution, may be
laid aside as unnecessary ? Will not the reasonings of one wise
man, be as effectual as those of twelve ? Will not the compe-
tence of one individual to instruct his neighbours, be a matter of
sufficient notoriety, without the formality of an election ? Will
there be many vices to correct, and much obstinacy to conquer ?
This is one of the most memorable stages of human improvement.
With what delight must every well informed friend of mankind
look forward, to the auspicious period, the dissolution of political
government, of that brute engine, which has been the only
perennial cause of the vices of mankind, and which, as has
abundantly appeared in the progress of the present work, has
mischiefs of various sorts incorporated with its substance, and no
otherwise removable than by its utter annihilation !
102 GENERAL EFFECTS OF THE
BOOK VI.
OP OPINION CONSIDERED AS A SUBJECT OF POLITICAL
INSTITUTION.
CHAP. I.
GENERAL EFFECTS OF THE POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENCE OF
OPINION.
Arguments in favour of this superintendence. Answer. The exertions
of society in its corporate capacity are, 1, unwise 2, incapable of
proper effect. Of sumptuary laws, agrarian laws and rewards.
Of spies. Political degeneracy not incurable. 3, superfluous in
commerce in speculative enquiry in morality. 4, pernicious as
undermining the best qualities of the mind as hostile to its future
improvement. Conclusion.
A PRINCIPLE, which has entered deeply into the systems of the
writers on political law, is that of the duty of governments to
watch over the manners of the people. " Government," say
they, "plays the part of an unnatural step-mother, not of an
affectionate parent, when she is contented by rigorous punish-
ments to avenge the commission of a crime, while she is wholly
inattentive beforehand, to imbue the mind with those virtuous
principles, which might have rendered punishment unnecessary.
It is the business of a sage and patriotic magistracy, to have its
attention ever alive to the sentiments of the people, to encourage
such as are favourable to virtue, and to check in the bud, such as
may lead to disorder and corruption. How long shall government
be employed to display its terrors, without ever having recourse to
the gentleness of invitation ? How long shall she deal in retro-
spect and censure, to the utter neglect of prevention and remedy ?"
These reasonings have, in some respects, gained additional
strength, by means of the latest improvements, and clearest
views, upon the subject of political truth. It is now more evident,
than it was in any former period, that government, instead
of being an object of secondary consideration, has been the prin-
cipal vehicle of extensive and permanent evil to mankind.
It was unavoidable therefore to say, "since government can pro-
duce so much positive mischief, surely it can do some positive
good."
But these views, however specious and agreeable they may in
the first instance appear, are liable to very serious question. If
we would not be seduced by visionary good, we ought here, more
POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENCE OF OPINION. 103
than ever, to recollect the fundamental principles laid down and
illustrated in this work, " that government is, in all cases, an
evil," and " that it ought to be introduced as sparingly as pos-
sible." Man is a species of being, whose excellence depends
upon his individuality ; and who can be neither great nor wise,
but in proportion as he is independent.
But, if we w r ould shut up government within the narrowest
practicable limits, we must beware how we let it loose in the
field of opinion. Opinion is the castle, or rather the temple, of
human nature ; and, if it be polluted, there is no longer anything
sacred or venerable in sublunary existence.
In treating of the subject of political obedience,* we settled,
perhaps with some degree of clearness, the line of demarcation,
between the contending claims of the individual, and of the
community. We found, that the species of obedience which,
sufficiently discharged the claims of the community, was that
which is paid to force, and not which is built upon a sentiment of
deference ; and that this species of obedience was, beyond all
others, least a source of degeneracy in him that paid it. But,
upon this hypothesis, whatever exterior compliance is yielded,
opinion remains inviolate.
Here then we perceive, in what manner the purposes of govern-
ment may be answered, and the independence of the individual
suffer the smallest degree of injury. We are shown, how govern-
ment, which is, in all cases, an evil, may most effectually be
limited as to the noxiousness of its influence.
But, if this line be overstepped, if opinion be rendered a topic
of political superintendence, we are immediately involved in a
slavery, to which no imagination of man can set a termination.
The hopes of our improvement are arrested ; for government
fixes the mercurialness of man to an assigned station. We can
no longer enquire or think ; for enquiry and thought are uncer-
tain in their direction, and unshackled in their termination. We
sink into motionless inactivity and the basest cowardice ; for our
thoughts and words are beset on every side with penalty and
menace.
It i$ not the business of government, as will more fully appear
in the sequel, to become the preceptor of its subjects. Its office
is, not to inspire our virtues, that would be a hopeless task ; it is
merely to check those excesses, which threaten the general
security.
But, though this argument ought perhaps to be admitted as
sufficiently decisive of the subject under consideration, and can-
not be set aside, but upon grounds that would invalidate all the
leasonings of this work, yet the prejudice, in favour of the
political superintendence of opinion, has, with some persons, been
so great, and the principle, in some of its applications, has been
stated with such seeming plausibility, as to make it necessary
* Vol. I., Book III., Chap. VI
104 GENERAL EFFECTS OF THE
that we should follow it in these applications, and endeavour in
each instance to expose its sophistry.
In the mean time it may not be improper to state some further
reasons, in confirmation of the general unfitness of government
as a superintendent of opinion.
One of these may be drawn from the view we have recently
taken of society considered as an agent.* A multitude of men
may be feigned to be an individual, but they cannot become a
real individual. The acts which go under the name of the society,
are really the acts now of one single person, and now of another.
The men who by turns usurp the name of the whole, perpetually
act under the pressure of incumbrances, that deprive them of
their true energy. They are fettered, by the prejudices, the
humours, the weakness, and the vice of those with whom they
act ; and, after a thousand sacrifices to these contemptible inter-
ests, their project comes out at last, distorted in every joint,
abortive and monstrous. Society therefore, in its corporate
capacity, can by no means be busy and intrusive with impunity,
since its acts must be expected to be deficient in wisdom.
Secondly, they will not be less deficient in efficacy, than they"
arc in wisdom. The object at which we are supposing them to
aim, is to improve the opinions, and through them the manners
of mankind ; for manners are nothing but opinions carried out
into action : such as is the fountain, such will be the streams
that are supplied from it. But what is it upon which opinion
must be founded ? Surely upon evidence, upon the perceptions
of the understanding. Has society then any particular advan-
tage, in its corporate capacity, for illuminating the understanding ?
Can it convey, into its addresses and expostulations, a compound
or sublimate of the wisdom of all its members, superior in quality
to the individual wisdom of any ? If so, why have not societies
of men written treatises of morality, of the philosophy of nature,
or the philosophy of mind ? Why have all the -great steps of
human improvement been the work of individuals ?
If then society, considered as an agent, have no particular
advantage for enlightening the understanding, the real difference,
between the dicta of society, and the dicta of individuals, must
be looked for in the article of authority. But authority is, by
the very nature of the case, inadequate to the task it assumes to
perform. Man is the creature of habit and judgment ; and the
empire of the former of these, though not perhaps more absolute,
is at least more conspicuous. The most efficacious instrument I
can possess for changing a man's habits, is to change his judg-
ments. Even this instrument will seldom produce a sudden,
though, when brought into full operation, it is perhaps sure of
producing a gradual revolution. But this mere authority can never
do. Where it does most in changing the characters of men, it
only changes them into base and despicable slaves. Contending
Book V., Chap. XXIII., p. 98.
POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENCE OF OPINION. 105
against the habits of an entire society, it can do nothing. It
excites only contempt of its frivolous endeavours. If laws were
a sufficient means for the reformation of error and vice, it is not
to be believed btit that the world, long ere this, would have
become the seat of every virtue. Nothing can be more easy, than
to command men. to be just and good, to love their neighbours,
to practise universal sincerity, to be content with a little, and to
resist the enticements of avarice and ambition. But, when we
have done, will the actions of men be altered by our precepts ?
These commands have been issued for thousands of years ; and,
if it had been decreed that every man should be hanged that
violated them, it is vehemently to be suspected that this would
not have secured their influence.
But it will be answered, " that laws need not deal thus in
generals, but may descend to particular provisions calculated to
secure their success. We may institute sumptuary laws, limiting
the expence of our citizens in dress and food. We may institute
agrarian laws, forbidding any man to possess more than a certain
annual revenue. We may proclaim prizes as the reward of acts
of justice, benevolence, and public virtue." And, when we have
done this, how far are we really advanced in our career ? If the
people are previously inclined to moderation in expence, the laws
are a superfluous parade. If they are not inclined, who shall
execute them, or prevent their evasion ? It is the misfortune in
these cases, that regulations cannot be executed, but by the
individuals of that very people they are meant to restrain. If
the nation at large be infested with vice, who shall secure us a
succession of magistrates that are free from the contagion ? Even
if we could surmount this difficulty, still it would be vain. Vice
is ever more ingenious in evasion, than authority in detection. It
is absurd to imagine that any law can be executed, that directly
contradicts the propensities and spirit of the nation. If vigilance
were able fully to countermine the subterfuges of art, the magis-
trates who thus pertinaciously adhered to the practice of their
duty, could scarcely fail to become the miserable victims of
depravity exasperated into madness.
What can be more contrary to all liberal principles of human
intercourse, than the inquisitorial spirit which such regulations
imply ? Who shall enter into my house, scrutinise my expendi-
ture, and count the dishes upon my table ? Who shall detect the
stratagems I employ, to cover my real possession of an enormous
income, while I seem to receive but a small one ? Not that then;
is really anything unjust and unbecoming, as has been too often
supposed, in my neighbour's animadverting with the utmost free-
dom upon my personal conduct.* But that all watchfulness, that
proposes for its object the calling in of force as the corrective of
error is invidious. Observe my conduct ; you do well. Report
it as widely as possible, provided you report it fairly ; you are
Vol. L, Book II., Chap. V., p. 77.
106 GENERAL EFFECTS OF THE
entitled to commendation. But the heart of man unavoidably
revolts, against the attempt to correct my error by the infliction,
of violence. We disapprove of the superior, however well in-
formed he may be who undertakes, by chastisement, to induce
me to alter in my opinion, or vary in my choice ; but we disap-
prove still more, and we do well, of the man who officiates as the
Argus of my tyrant ; who reports my conduct, not for the pur-
pose of increasing my wisdom and prudence, not for the purpose
of instructing others, but that he may bring down upon me the
brute, the slavish and exasperating arm of power.
Such must be the case in extensive governments : in govern-
ments of smaller dimensions opinion would be all-sufficient ; the
inspection of every man over the conduct of his neighbours, when
unstained with caprice, would constitute a censorship of the most
irresistible nature. But the force of this censorship would depend
upon its freedom, not following the positive dictates of law, but
the spontaneous decisions of the understanding.
Again, in the distributions of rewards who shall secure us
against error, partiality, and intrigue, converting that, which was
meant for the support of virtue, into a new engine for her ruin ?
Not to add, that prizes are a very feeble instrument for the
generation of excellence, always inadequate to its reward where
it exists, always in danger of being bestowed on its semblance,
continually misleading the understanding by foreign and degene-
rate motives of avarice and vanity.
The force of this argument, respecting the inefficacy of regula-
tions, has often been felt, and the conclusions that are deduced
from it, have been, in a high degree, discouraging. " The cha-
racter of nations," it has been said, "is unalterable, or at least,
when once debauched, can never be recovered to purity. Laws
are an empty name, when the manners of the people are become
corrupt. In vain shall the Avisest legislator attempt the reforma-
tion of his country, when the torrent of profligacy and vice has
once broken down the bounds of moderation. There is no longer
any instrument left for the restoration of simplicity and frugality.
It is useless to declaim against the evils that arise from inequality
of riches and rank, where this inequality has already gained an
establishment. A generous spirit will admire the exertions of
a Cato and a Brutus ; but a calculating spirit will condemn
them, as inflicting useless torture upon a patient whose disease
was irremediable. It was from a view of this truth, that the
poets derived their fictions, respecting the early history of man-
kind ; well aware that, when luxury was introduced, and the
springs of intellect unbent, it would be a vain expectation, that
should hope to recal men, from passion to reason, and from
effeminacy to energy."* But this conclusion from the iiiefficacy
of regulations is so far from being valid, that in reality,
A third objection, to the positive interference of society, in its
Book I., Chap. VII.
POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENCE OF OPINION. 107
corporate capacity, for the propagation of truth and virtue, is, that
such interference is altogether unnecessary. Truth and virtue
are competent to fight their own battles. They do not need to be
nursed and patronised by the hand of power.
The mistake which has been made in this case, is similar to the
mistake, which is now universally exploded, upon the subject of
commerce. It was long supposed that, if any nation desired to
extend its trade, the tiling most immediately necessary was for
government to interfere, and institute protecting duties, bounties,
and monopolies. It is now generally admitted by speculative
inquirers, that commerce never flourishes so much, as when it is
delivered from the guardianship of legislators and ministers, and
is conducted upon the principle, not of forcing other people to
buy our commodities dear, when they might purchase them else-
where cheaper or better, but of ourselves feeling the necessity of
recommending them by their intrinsic advantages. Nothing can
be at once so unreasonable and hopeless, as to attempt, by posi-
tive regulations, to supersede the dictates of common sense, and
the essential principles of human understanding.
The same truth which has gained such extensive footing under
the article of commerce, has made some progress, in its applica-
tion to speculative enquiry. Formerly it was thought, that the
true religion was to be defended by acts of uniformity, and that
one of the first duties of the magistrate, was to watch the pro*
gress of heresy. It was truly judged, that the connection between
error and vice is of the most intimate nature ; and it was con-
cluded, that no means could be more effectual to prevent men
from deviating into error, than to check their wanderings by the
scourge of authority. Thus writers, \vhose political views, in
other respects, have been uncommonly enlarged, have been found
to maintain, " that men ought indeed to be permitted to think as
they please, but not to propagate their pernicious opinions; as
they may be permitted to keep poisons in their closet, but not to
offer them to sale under the denomination of cordials."* Or, if
humanity have forbidden them to recommend the extirpation of
a sect which has already got footing in a country, they have how-
ever earnestly advised the magistrate, to give no quarter to any
new extravagance that might be attempted to be introduced.f
The reign of these two errors, respecting commerce, and theoreti-
cal speculation, is nearly at an end ; and it is reasonable to
believe that the idea of teaching virtue, through the instrumen-
tality of regulation and government, will not long survive them.
All that we should require on the part of government, in behalf
of morality and virtue, seems to be, a clear stage upon which for
them to exert their own energies, and perhaps some restraint, for
the present, upon the violent disturbers of the peace of society,
Gulliver's Travels, Tart II., Chap. VI.
t Mably, dc la Legislation, Lie. If.. Chap. Ill: dct Eiats Unit
d'Amcrique, Lcttre III.
108 GENERAL EFFECTS OF THE
that the operations of these principles may be permitted to go on
uninterrupted to their genuine conclusion. Who ever saw an
instance, in which error, unallied to power, was victorious over
truth ? Who is there that can bring himself to believe, that, with
equal arms, truth can be ultimately defeated ? Hitherto it seems
as if every instrument of menace or influence had been employed
to counteract her. Has she made no progress ? Has the mind of
man the capacity, to choose falsehood, and reject truth, when
evidence is fairly presented ? When it has been once thus pre-
sented, and has gained a few converts, does she ever fail to
go on increasing the number of her votaries ? Exclusively of the
fatal interference of government, and the violent irruptions of
barbarism threatening to sweep her from the face of the earth,
lias not this been, in all instances, the history of science ?
Nor are these observations less true, in their application to the
manners and morals of mankind. Do not men always act, in the
manner which they esteem best upon the whole, or most condu-
cive to their interest ? Is it possible then that evidence of what
is best, or what is most beneficial, can be stated to no pur-
pose ? The real history of the changes of character they experi-
ence in this respect, seems to be this. Truth, for a long time,
spreads itself unobserved. Those who are the first to embrace
it, are little aware of the extraordinary events with which it
is pregnant. But it goes on to be studied and illustrated. It in-
creases in clearness and amplitude of evidence. The number of
those by whom it is embraced, is gradually enlarged. If it have
relation to their practical interests, if it show them, that they may
be a thousand times more happy and more free than at present, it
is impossible that, in its perpetual increase of evidence and
energy, it should not, at last, break the bounds of speculation, and
become an operative principle of action. What can be less
plausible than the opinion, which has so long prevailed, "that
justice, and an equal distribution of the means of happiness, may
appear, with the utmost clearness, to be the only reasonable b; Is
of social institution, without ever having a chance of being
reduced into practice ? that oppression and misery are draughts
of so intoxicating a nature, that, when once tasted, we can never
afterwards refuse to partake of them? that vice has so many
advantages over virtue, as to make the reasonableness and
wisdom of the latter, however powerfully exhibited, incapable of
obtaining a firm hold upon our affections ?"
While therefore we demonstrate the inefficacy of naked and
unassisted regulations, we are far from producing any discourage-
ment in the prospect of social improvement. The true tendency
of this view of the subject, is, to suggest indeed a different, but a
more consistent and promising, method by which this improve-
ment is to be produced. The legitimate instrument of effecting
political reformation is knowledge. Let truth be incessantly
studied, illustrated and propagated, and the effect is inevitable.
Let us not vainly endeavour, by laws and regulations, to anticipate
POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENCE OF OPINION. 109
the future dictates of the general mind, but calmly wait till the
harvest of opinion is ripe. Let no new practice in politics be
introduced, and no old one anxiously superseded, till the alter-
ation is called for by the public voice. The task, which, for the
present, should occupy the first rank in the thoughts of the friend
of man, is enquiry, communication, discussion. The time may
come, when his task shall appear to be of another sort. Error in-
deed, if. with unaltered constancy, we wait its complete detection,
may be expected to sink into unnoticed oblivion, without almost
one partisan adventurous enough to intercept her fall. Such
would probably be the event, were it not for the restless and mis-
judging impetuosity of mankind. But the event may be other-
wise. Political change, advancing too rapidly to its crisis, may
be attended with commotion and hazard ; and it may then be in- ;
cumbent on the generous and disinterested man, suspending, to a
certain degree, general speculations, and the labours of science,
to assist in unfolding the momentous catastrophe, and to investigate
and recommend the measures, which the pressure of temporary
difficulties shall appear successively to require. If this should at
any time be the case, if a concert of action can become preferable
to a concert of disquisition, the duty of ihe philanthropist will then
change its face. Instead of its present sober, cheerful, and peace-
able character, it will be full of ardousness, solicitude and un-
certainty, evils which nothing but an assured simplicity and
independence of conduct can ever purify or relieve. To return.
In the fourth place, the interference of an organised society,
for the purpose of influencing opinions and manners is not only
useless, but pernicious. We have already found, that such in-
terference is, in one view of the subject, ineffectual. But here a
distinction is to be made. Considered with a view to the intro-
duction of any favourable changes in the state of society, it is
altogether impotent. But, though it be inadequate to change, it
is powerful to prolong. This property in political regulation is
so far from being doubtful, that to it alone we are to ascribe all
the calamities that government has inflicted on mankind. When
regulation coincides with the habits and propensities of mankind
at the time it is introduced, it will be found capable of maintain-
ing those habits and propensities, in the greater part, unaltered
for centimes. In this view it is doubly entitled to jealousy and
distrust.
To understand this more accurately, let us apply it to the case
of rewards, which has always been a favourite topic with the ad-
vocates of an improved legislation. How often have we been
told, " that talents and virtues would spring up spontaneously in
a country, one of the objects of whose constitution should be, to
secure to them an adequate reward ? Now, to judge of the pro-
priety of this aphorism, we should begin with recollecting, that
the discerning of merit is an individual, not a social capacity.
What can be more reasonable, than that each man, for himself,
slnuld estimate the merits of his neighbour? , To endeavour to
110 POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENCE OF OPINION.
institute a general judgment in the name of the whole, and to
melt down the different opinions of mankind into one common
opinion, appears, at first sight, so monstrous an attempt, that it is
impossible to augur well of its consequences. Will this judgment
be wise, reasonable, or just ? Wherever each man is accustomed
to decide for himself, and the appeal of merit is immediately to
the opinion of its contemporaries, there, were it not for the false
bias of some positive institution, we might expect a genuine ar-
dour in him who aspired to excellence, creating and receiving
impressions in the presence of an impartial audience. We might
expect the judgment of the auditors to ripen by perpetual exer-
cise, and mind, ever curious and awake, continually to approach
nearer to its genuine standard. What do we gain in compensa-
tion for this, by setting up authority as the oracle, from which the
active mind is to inform itself what sort of excellence it should
seek to acquire, and the public at large what judgment they
should pronounce upon the efforts of their contemporaries ?
What should we think of an act of parliament appointing some
individual president of the court of criticism, and judge in the
last resort of the literary merit of dramatic compositions ? Is
there any solid reason why we should expect better things, from
authority usurping the examination of moral or political excel-
lence ?
Nothing can be more unreasonable, than the attempt to retain
men in one common opinion by the dictate of authority. The
opinion thus obtruded upon the minds of the public, is not their
real opinion ; it is only a project by which they are rendered
incapable of forming an opinion. Whenever government assumes
to deliver us from the trouble of thinking for ourselves, the only
consequences it produces are torpor and imbecility. This point
was perhaps sufficiently elucidated, when we had occasion direct-
ly to investigate the principle of the right of private judgment.*
We shall be still more completely aware of the pernicious ten-
dency of positive institutions, if we proceed explicitly to contrast
the nature of mind, and the nature of government. One of the
most unquestionable characteristics of the human mind, has ap-
peared to be, its progressive nature. Now, on the other hand,
it is the express tendency of positive institution, to retain that
with which it is conversant, for ever in the same state. Is then
the perfectibility of understanding an attribute of trivial import-
ance ? Can we recollect, with coldness and indifference, the
advantages with which this quality seems pregnant to the latest
posterity ? And how are these advantages to be secured ? By
incessant industry, by a curiosity never to be disheartened or
fatigued, by a spirit of enquiry to which a philanthropic mind
will allow no pause. The circumstance most indispensably
necessary, is that we should never stand still, that everything
most interesting to the general welfare, wholly delivered from
* Vol. I., Book II., Chap. VI.
POLITICAL SUPERINTENDENCE OF OPINION. Ill
restraint, should be in a state of change, moderate and as it were
imperceptible, but continual. Is there anything that can look
with a more malignant aspect upon the general welfare, than an
institution tending to give permanence to certain systems and
opinions ? Such institutions are two ways pernicious ; first,
which is most material, because they render the future advances
of mind inexpressibly tedious and operose ; secondly, because,
by violently confining the stream of reflection, and holding it for
a time in an unnatural state, they compel it at last to rush forward
with impetuosity, and thus occasion calamities, which, were it
free from restraint, would be found extremely foreign to its
nature. If the interference of positive institution had been out
of the question, would the progress of intellect, in past ages,
have been so slow, as to have struck the majority of ingenuous
observers with despair ? The science of Greece and Rome upon
the subject of politics, was, in many respects, extremely imper-
fect : yet could we have been so long in appropriating their dis-
coveries, had not the allurements of reward, and the menace of
persecution, united to induce us, not to trust to the direct and
fair verdict of our own understandings ?
The just conclusion from the above reasonings, is nothing more
than a confirmation, with some difference in the mode of appli-
cation, of the fundamental principle, that government is little
capable of affording benefit of the first importance to mankind.
It is calculated to induce us to lament, not the apathy and indif-
ference, but the inauspicious activity of government. It incites
us to look for the moral improvement of the species, not in the
multiplying of regulations, but in their repeal. It teaches us,
that truth and virtue, like commerce, will then flourish most,
when least subjected to the mistaken guardianship of authority
and laws. This maxim will rise upon us in its importance, in
proportion as we connect it with the numerous departments of
political justice to which it will be found to have relation. As
fast as it shall be adopted into the practice of mankind, it may be
expected to deliver us from a weight, intolerable to mind, and, in
the highest degree, hostile to the progress of truth.
112 OF RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.
CHAP. IT.
OF RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.
Their general tendency. Effects on the clergy : they introduce, 1,
implicit faith. 2, hypocrisy : topics by which an adherence to them
is vindicated. Effects on the laity. Application.
ONE of the most striking instances of the injurious effects of the
political patronage of opinion, as it at present exists in the world,
is to be found in the system of religious conformity. Let us take
our example from the church of England, by the constitution of
which subscription is required from its clergy, to thirty-nine arti-
cles of precise and dogmatical assertion, upon almost every subject
of moral and metaphysical enquiry. Here then we have to con-
sider the whole honours and revenues of the church, from the
archbishop, who takes precedence next after the princes of the
blood royal, to the meanest curate in the nation, as employed in
support of a system of blind submission and abject hypocrisy.
Is there one man, through this numerous hierarchy, that is at
liberty to think for himself? Is there one man among them, that
can lay his hand upon his heart, and declare, upon his honour
and conscience, that the emoluments of his profession have no
effect in influencing his judgment ? The supposition is absurd.
The most that an honest and discerning man, under such circum-
stances, can say, is, "I hope not ; I endeavour to be impartial."
First, the system of religious conformity, is a system of blind
submission. In every country, possessing a religious establish-
ment, the state, from a benevolent care, it may be, for the manners
and opinions of its subjects, publicly excites a numerous class of
men to the study of morality and virtue. What institution, we
might obviously be led to inquire, can be more favourable to pub-
lic happiness ? Morality and virtue are the most interesting topics
of human speculation ; and the best effects might be expected to
result from the circumstance, of many persons perpetually re-
ceiving the most liberal education, and setting themselves apart
for the express cultivation of these topics. Bat, unfortunately,
these very men are fettered in the outset, by having a code of
propositions put into their hands, in a conformity to which all
their enquiries nrust terminate. The direct tendency of science,
is to increase from age to age, and to proceed, from the slenderest
beginnings, to the most admirable conclusions. But care is
taken, in the present case, to anticipate these conclusions, and to
bind men, by promises and penalties, not to improve upon the
science of their ancestors. The plan is designed indeed to guard
against degeneracy and decline ; but it makes no provision for
advance. It is founded in the most sovereign ignorance of the
nature of mind, which never fails to do either the one or the
other.
OF RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS. 113
Secondly, the tendency of a code of religious conformity, is to
make men hypocrites. To understand this, it may be sufficient
to recollect the various subterfuges, that have been invented by
ingenious men, to apologise for the subscription of the English
clergy. It is observable, by the way, that the articles of our
church are founded upon the creed of the Calvinists, though, for
one hundred and fifty years past, it has been accounted disreputa-
ble among the clergy, to be of any other than the opposite, or Ar-
minian tenets. Volumes have been written to prove that, while
these articles express Calvinistic sentiments, they are capable of
a different construction, and that the subscriber has a right to take
advantage of that construction. Divines of another class have
rested their arguments upon the known good character and bene-
volent intentions of the first reformers, and have concluded that
they could never intend to tyrannise over the consciences of men,
or to preclude the advantage of further information. Lastly, there
are many, who have treated the articles, as articles of peace ; and
inferred that, though you did not believe, you might allow your-
self the disingenuity of subscribing them, provided you added the
further guilt, of constantly refraining to oppose what you consi-
dered as an adulteration of divine truth.
It would perhaps be regarded as incredible, if it rested upon
the evidence of history alone, that a whole body of men, set apart
as the instructors of mankind, weaned, as they are expected to be,
from temporal ambition, and maintained upon the supposition
that the existence of human virtue and divine truth depends on
their exertions, should, with one consent, employ themselves in a
casuistry, the object of which, is to prove the propriety of a man's
declaring his assent to what he does not believe. These men
either credit their own subterfuges, or they do not. If they do
not, what can be expected from men so unprincipled and profli-
gate ? With what front can they exhort other men to virtue,
with the brand of infamy upon their own foreheads ? If they do
yield this credit, what must be their portion of moral sensibility
and discernment ? Can we believe that men shall enter upon
their profession, with so notorious a perversion of reason and
truth, and that no consequences will flow from it, to infect their
general character ? Rather, can we fail to compare their unnatu-
ral and unfortunate state, with the wisdom and virtue which the
same industry and exertion might unquestionably have produced,
if they had been left to their genuine operation ? They are like
the victims of Circe, to whom human understanding was pre-
served entire, that they might more exquisitely feel their degraded
condition. They are incited, like Tantalus, to contemplate and
desire an object, the fruition of which is constantly withheld from
their unsuccessful attempts. They are held up to their contem-
poraries as the votaries of truth, while political institution tyran-
nically commands them, in all their varieties of understanding,
and through a succession of ages, to model themselves by one
invariable standard.
23. VOL. u i
114 OP RELIGIOUS ESTABLISHMENTS.
Such are the effects that a code of religious conformity produ-
ces upon the clergy ; let us consider the effects that are produced
upon their countrymen. They are bid to look for instruction and
morality, to a denomination of men, formal, embarrassed and hy-
pocritical, in whom the main spring of intellect is unbent and
incapable of action. If the people be not blinded with religious
zeal, they will discover and despise the imperfections of their
spiritual guides. If they be so blinded, they will not the less
transplant into their own characters, the imbecile and unworthy
spirit they are not able to detect. Is virtue so deficient in attrac-
tions, as to be incapable of gaining adherents to her standard !'
Far otherwise. Nothing can bring the wisdom of a just and pure
conduct into question, but the circumstance of its being recom-
mended to us from an equivocal quarter. The most malicious
enemy of mankind, could not have invented a scheme, more de-
structive of their true happiness, than that of hiring, at the expense
of the state, a body of men, whose business it should seem to be,
to dupe their contemporaries into the practice of virtue.
One of the lessons that powerful facts are perpetually reading
to the inhabitants of such countries, is that of duplicity and pre-
varication in an order of men, which, if it exist at all, ought to
exist only for reverence. Can it be thought that this prevarica-
tion is not a subject of general notoriety ? Can it be supposed,
that the first idea that rises to the understanding of the multitude
at sight of a clergyman, is not that of a man, who inculcates cer-
tain propositions, not so properly because he thinks them true, or
thinks them interesting, as because he is hired to the employment ?
Whatever instruction a code of religious uniformity may fail to
convey, there is one that it always communicates, the wisdom of
sacrificing our understandings, and maintaining a perpetual dis-
cord between our professions and our sentiments. Such are the
effects that are produced by political institution, in a case, in
which it most zealously intends, with parental care, to guard its
subjects from seduction and depravity.
These arguments do not apply to any particular articles and
creeds, but to the notion of ecclesiastical establishments in general.
Wherever the state sets apart a certain revenue for the support of
religion, it will infallibly be given to the adherents of some parti-
cular opinions, and will operate in the manner of prizes, to induce
men to embrace and profess those opinions. Undoubtedly, if I
think it right to have a spiritual instructor, to guide me in my re-
searches, and, at stated intervals, publicly to remind me of my
duty, I ought to be at liberty to take the proper steps to supply
myself in this respect. A priest, who thus derives his mission
from the unbiassed judgment of his parishioners, will stand a
chance to possess, beforehand, and independently of corrupt in-
fluence, the requisites they demand. But why should I be com-
pelled to contribute to the support of an institution, whether I
approve of it or no ? If public worship be conformable to reason,
reason without doubt will prove adequate to its vindication an<j
SUPPRESSION OP ERRONEOUS OPINIONS, ETC. 115
support. If it be from God, it is profanation to imagine that it
stands in need of the alliance of the state. It must be, in an emi-
nent degree, artificial and exotic, if it be incapable of preserving
itself in existence, otherwise than by the inauspicious interference
of political institution.
CHAP. III.
OF THE SUPPRESSION OF ERRONEOUS OPINIONS IN RELIGION AND
GOVERNMENT.
Of heresy. Arguments by which the suppression of heresy has been re-
commended. Answer. Ignorance not necessary to make men virtuous.
Reason, and not force, the proper corrective of sophistry. Incon-
gruity of the attempt to restrain thought to restrain the freedom of
speech. Consequences that would result. Fallibility of the men by
whom authority is exercised. Of erroneous opinions in government.
Iniquity of the attempt to restrain them. Difficulty of suppressing
opinions by force. Severities that would be necessary. Without per-
secution and oppression, opinions do not lead to violence.
THE same views which have prevailed for the introduction of
religious establishments, have inevitably led to the idea, of provi-
sions against the rise and progress of heresy. No arguments can
be adduced in favour of the political patronage of truth, that will
not be equally cogent in behalf of the political discouragement of
error. Nay, they will, of the two, perhaps be most cogent in the
latter case ; as to prevent men from going wrong, is a milder and
more temperate assumption of power, than to compel them to go
right. It has however happened that this argument, though more
tenable, has had fewer adherents. Men are more easily reconciled
to abuse, in the distribution of rewards, than in the infliction of
penalties. It seems therefore the less necessary, laboriously to
insist upon the refutation of this principle ; its discussion is prin-
cipally requisite for the sake of method.
Various arguments have been alleged in defence of this restraint.
" The importance of opinion, as a general proposition, is notorious
and unquestionable. Ought not political institution to take under
its inspection, that root from which all our voluntary actions are
ultimately derived ? The opinions of men must be expected to
be as various as their education and their temper ; ought not go-
vernment to exert its foresight to prevent this discord from break-
ing out into anarchy and violence ? There is no proposition, so
absurd, or so hostile to morality and public good, as not to have
found its votaries : will there be no danger in suffering these ec-
centricities to proceed unmolested, and every perverter of truth
116 OF THE SUPPRESSION OF ERRONEOUS OPINIONS
and justice to make as many converts as he is able ? It may be
found indeed to be a hopeless task, to endeavour to extirpate by
the hand of power, errors already established ; but is it not the duty
of government, to prevent their ascendency, to check the growth
of their adherents, and the introduction of heresies hitherto un-
known ? Can those persons, to whom the care of the general
welfare is confided, or who are fitted, by their situation, or their
talents, to suggest proper regulations to the adoption of the com-
munity, be justified, in conniving at the spread of such extravagant
and pernicious opinions, as strike at the root of order and morality ?
Simplicity of mind, and an understanding undebauched with
sophistry, have ever been the characteristics of a people among
whom virtue has flourished : ought not government to exert it-
self, to exclude the inroad of qualities opposite to these ! It is
thus that the friends of moral justice, have ever contemplated
with horror, the progress of infidelity and latitudinarian princi-
ples. It was thus that the elder Cato viewed with grief, the im-
portation into his own country, of that plausible and loquacious
philosophy, by which Greece had already been corrupted ."*
There are several trains of reflection which these reasonings
suggest. None of them can be more important, than that which
may assist us, in detecting the error of the elder Cato, and of other
persons, who have been the zealous, but mistaken, advocates of
virtue. Ignorance is not necessary to render men virtuous. If it
were, we might reasonably conclude, that virtue was an imposture,
-and that it was our duty to free ourselves from its shackles. The
cultivation of the understanding, has no tendency to corrupt the
heart. A man who should possess all the science of Newton, and
all the genius of Shakspeare, would not, on that account, be a bad
man. Want of great and comprehensive views, had as consider-
able a share as benevolence, in the grief of Cato. The progress
of science and intellectual cultivation, in some degree, resembles,
the taking to pieces a disordered machine, with a purpose, by re-
constructing it, of enhancing its value. An uninformed and timid
spectator might be alarmed at the temerity of the artist, at the
confused heap of pins and wheels that are laid aside at random,
and might take it for granted that nothing but destruction could
be the consequence. But he would be disappointed. It is thus,
that the extravagant sallies of mind, are the prelude of the highest
wisdom, and that the dreams of Ptolemy, were destined to pre-
cede the discoveries of Newton.
The event cannot be other than favourable. Mind would else
cease to be mind. It would be more plausible to say, that the
incessant cultivation of the understanding will terminate in mad-
ness, than that it will terminate in vice. As long as inquiry is
suffered to proceed, and science to improve, -our knowledge is
* The reader will consider this as the language of the objectors. The most
/eminent of the Greek philosophers were, in reality, distinguished from all
other teachers, by the fortitude with which they conformed to the precepts
.they taught.
IN RELIGION AKD GOVERNMENT. 117
perpetually increased. Shall we know everything else, and
nothing of ourselves ? Shall we become clear-sighted and pene-
trating in all other subjects, without increasing our penetration
iipon the subject of man ? Is vice most truly allied to wisdom,
or to folly ? Can mankind perpetually increase in wisdom, with-
out increasing in the knowledge of what it is wise for them to do ?
Can a man have a clear discernment, unclouded with any remains
of former mistake, that this is the action he ought to perform,
most conducive to his own interest, and to the general good, most
delightful at the instant, and satisfactory in the review, most
agreeable to reason, justice and the nature of things, and refrain
from performing it ? Every system which has been constructed
relative to the nature of superior beings and Gods, amidst its other
errors, has reasoned truly upon these topics, and taught that the
accession of wisdom and knowledge led, not to malignity and
tyranny, but to benevolence and justice.
Secondly, the injustice of punishing men for their opinions and
arguments will be still more visible, if we reflect on the nature of
punishment. Punishment is one of the classes of coercion, and,
as such, may perhaps be allowed to have an occasional propriety,
where the force introduced, is the direct correlative of corporal
violence previously exerted. But the case of false opinions and
perverse arguments, is of a very different nature. Does any man
assert falsehood ? Nothing further can appear requisite, than that
it should be confronted with truth. Does he bewilder us with
sophistry ? Introduce the light of reason, and his deceptions will
vanish. Where argument, erroneous statements, and misrepre-
sentation, alone are emploved, argument alone should be called
forth to encounter them.
To enable us to estimate properly the value of laws for the
punishment of heresy, let us suppose a country to be sufficiently
provided with such laws, and observe the result. The object is,
to prevent men from entertaining certain opinions, or, in other
words, from thinking in a certain way. What can be more
absurd, than to undertake to put fetters upon the subtlety of
thought ? How frequently does the individual who desires to
restrain it in himself, fail in the attempt ? Add to this, that pro-
hibition and menace, in this respect, will frequently give new
restlessness to the curiosity of the mind. I must not so much as
think of the propositions, that there is no God ; that the stupend-
ous miracles of Moses and Christ were never really performed ;
that the dogmas of the Athanasian creed are erroneous. I must
shut my eyes, and run blindly into all the opinions, religious and
political, that my ancestors regarded as sacred. Will this, in all
instances, be possible ?
There is another consideration, trite indeed, but the triteness of
which is an additional argument of its truth. Swift says " Men
ought to be permitted to think as they please, but not to propagate
their pernicious opinions."* The obvious answer to this is, " We
* See above, Chap. I., p. 107.
118 OF THE SUPPRESSION OF ERRONEOUS OPINIONS
are much obliged to him : how would he be able to punish our
heresy, even if he desired it, so long as it was concealed ?" The
attempt to punish opinion is absurd : we may be silent respecting
our conclusions, if we please ; the train of thinking by which
those conclusions are generated, cannot fail to be silent.
"But, if men be not punished for their thoughts, they may be
punished for uttering those thoughts." No. This is not less
impossible than the other. By what arguments will you persuade
every man in the nation to exercise the trade of an informer. By
what arguments will you persuade my bosom-friend, with whom
I repose all the feelings of my heart, to repair immediately from
my company to a magistrate, in order to procure my commitment
for so doing, to the prisons of the inquisition ? In countries where
this is attempted, there will be a frequent struggle, the govern-
ment endeavouring to pry into our most secret transactions, and
the people excited to countermine, to outwit, and to execrate their
superintendents.
But the most valuable consideration which this part of the
subject suggests, is, Supposing all this were done, what judgment
must we form of the people among whom it is done ? Though
all this cannot, yet much may be performed ; though the embryo
cannot be annihilated, it may be prevented from expanding itself
into the dimensions of a man. The arguments by which we
were supposing a system for the restraint of opinion to be recom-
mended, were arguments derived from a benevolent anxiety for
the virtue of mankind, and to prevent their degeneracy. Will
this end be accomplished ? Let us contrast a nation of men
daring to think, to speak, and to act, what they believe to be right,
and fettered with no spurious motives to dissuade them from right.
with a nation that fears to speak, and fears to think, upon the
most interesting subjects of human inquiry. Can any spectacle
be more degrading than this timidity ? Can men in whom mind
is thus annihilated, be capable of any good or valuable purpose ?
Can this most abject of all slaveries be the genuine state, the
true perfection of the human species ?*
Another argument, though it has often been stated to the world,
deserves to be mentioned in this place. Governments, no more
than individual men, are infallible. The cabinets of princes and
the parliaments of kingdoms, if there be any truth in considera-
tions already stated,f are often less likely to be right in their
conclusions, than the theorist in his closet. But, dismissing
the estimate of greater and less, it was to be presumed from the
principles of human nature, and is found true in fact, that cabinets
and parliaments are liable to vary from each other in opinion.
What system of religion or government has not, in its turn, been
patronised by national authority ? The consequence therefore of
admitting this authority, is not merely attributing to government
a right to impose some, but any, or all, opinions upon the governed.
* Vol I., Book II., Chap. VI. -t- Book V., Chap. XXIII., p. 98.
IN RELIGION AND GOVERNMENT. 119
Are Paganism and Christianity, the religions of Mahomet, Zo-
roaster and Confucius, are monarchy and aristocracy, in all their
forms, equally worthy to be perpetuated among mankind ? Is it
certain that the greatest of human calamities, is change ? Must
we never hope for advance and improvement ? Have no revolu-
tion in government, and no reformation in religion, been pro-
ductive of more benefit, than disadvantage ? There is no species
of reasoning, in defence of the suppression of heresy, which may
not be brought back to this monstrous princple, that the know-
ledge of truth, and the introduction of right principles of policy,
are circumstances altogether indifferent to the welfare of mankind.
The same reasonings that are here employed against the forcible
suppression of religious heresy, will be found equally valid with
respect to political. The first circumstance that will not fail to
suggest itself to every reflecting mind, is, What sort of constitu-
tion must that be, which must never be examined ? whose
excellencies must be the constant topic of eulogium, but respect-
ing which we must never permit ourselves to inquire in what
they consist ? Can it be the interest of society, to proscribe all
investigation respecting the wisdom of its regulations ? Or mast
our debates be occupied with provisions of temporary convenience ;
and are we forbid to ask, whether there may not be something
fundamentally wrong in the principles of the structure ? Reason,
and good sense will not fail to augur ill of that system of things,
which is too sacred to be looked into ; and to suspect that there
must be something essentially weak in what thus shrinks from the
eye of curiosity. Add to which, that, however we may doubt of
the importance of religious disputes, nothing can less reasonably
be exposed to question, than that the happiness of mankind is
essentially connected with the improvement of political science.
That indeed, in the present situation of human affairs, is suffi-
ciently evident, which was formerly endeavoured to be contro-
verted, that the opinions of men are calculated essentially to affect
their social condition. We can no longer, with any plausibility,
lay claim to toleration, upon pretence of the innocence of error.
It would not, at this time, be mere indifference, it would be in-
fatuation, in our rulers, to say, We will leave the busily idle
votaries of speculation to manage their controversies for them-
selves, secure that their disputes are, in no degree, of concern to
the welfare of mankind.
Opinion is the most potent engine that can be brought within
the sphere of political society. False opinion, superstition, and
prejudice, have hitherto been the true supporters of usurpation
and despotism. Enquiry, and the improvement of the human
mind, are now shaking to the centre, those bulwarks that have so
long held mankind in thraldom. This is the genuine state of the
case : how ought our governors, and the friends of public tran-
quilttty, to conduct themselves in this momentous crisis ?
We no longer claim toleration, as was formerly occasionally
done, from the unimportance of opinion ; we claim it, because a
120 SUPPRESSION OF ERRONEOUS OPINIONS, ETC.
contrary system will be found pregnant with the most fatal dis-
asters, because toleration only can give a mild and auspicious
character to the changes that are impending.
It has lately become a topic of discussion with political enquirers,
whether it be practicable, forcibly to effect the suppression of
novel opinions. Instances have been cited in which this seems to
have been performed. A cool and deliberate calculation has been
made, as to the number of legal or illegal murders that must be
committed, the quantity of misery that must be inflicted, the ex-
tent and duration of the wars that must be carried on, according
to the circumstances of the case, to accomplish this purpose.
In answer to this sort of reasoning, it may be observed, first,
that, if there are instances where a spreading opinion seems to-
have been extirpated by violence, the instances are much more
numerous, where this expedient has been employed in vain. It
should appear, that an opinion must be in a particular degree of
reception, and not have exceeded it, in order to give to this engine
a chance of effecting its purpose. Above all, it is necessary that
the violence, by which a set of opinions is to be suppressed, should
be unintermitted and invariable. If it should happen, as often
has happened in similar cases, that the partisans of the new
opinion, should alternately gain the ascendancy over their op-
pressors, we shall then have only an alternate succession of irrita-
tion and persecution. If there be the least intermission of the
violence, it is to be expected that the persecuted party will recover
their courage, and the whole business will be to be begun over
again. However seriously any one may be bent upon the sup-
pression of opinions, it would be absurd for him to build upon the
supposition, that the powers of government will never be trans-
ferred to other hands, and that the measures now adopted, will be
equally pursued to a distant termination.
Secondly, we must surely be induced on strong grounds to-
form a terrible idea of the consequences to result from the ascen-
dancy of new opinions, before we can bring ourselves to assent
to such severe methods for their suppression. Inexpressible must
be the enormities committed by us, before we can expect to
succeed in such an undertaking. To persecute men for their
opinions, is, of all the denominations of violence, that to which
an ingenuous mind can with the greatest difficulty be reconciled.
The persons, in this case, most obnoxious to our hostility, are the
upright and conscientious. They are, of all men, the most true
to their opinions, and the least reluctant to encounter the evils in
which those opinions may involve them. It may be, they are
averse to every species of disorder, pacific, benevolent, and pe-
culiarly under the guidance of public spirit and public affections.
A gallant spirit would teach us to encounter opinion with opinion,
and argument with argument. It is a painful species of cowardice
to which we have recourse, whatever be our motive, when we
determine to overbear an opponent by violence, whom we cannot
convince. The tendency of persecution is to generate the most
OF TESTS. 121
odious vices; in one part of the community, those malevolent
passions which teach us to regard our brethren as prodigies and
monsters, and that treacherous and vindictive spirit which is ever
lying in wait to destroy: in the other part of the community,
terror, hatred, hypocrisy, and falsehood. Supposing us ultimately
to succeed in our object, what sort of a people will be the sur-
vivors of this infernal purification ?
Thirdly, opinion, though formidable in its tendencies, is perhaps
never calamitous in its operation, but so far as it is encountered
with injustice and violence. In countries where religious tolera-
tion has been established, opposite sectaries have been found to
pursue their disputes in tranquillity. It is only where measures
of severity are adopted, that animosity is engendered. The mere
prospect of melioration may inspire a sedate and consistent
ardour; but oppression and suffering are necessary, to render
men bitter, impatient, and sanguinary. If we persecute the advo-
cates of improvement, and fail of our object, we may fear a
terrible retribution ; but, if we leave the contest to its genuine
course, and only apply ourselves to prevent mutual exasperation,
the issue perhaps, whichever way it is determined, will be benefi-
cent and auspicious.
CHAP. IV.
OF TESTS.
Their supposed advantages are attended with injustice are nugatory.
Illustration. Their disadvantages. They ensnare. Example.
Second example. Influence of tests on the latitudinarian on the
purist. Conclusion*
THE majority of the arguments above employed, on the subject
of penal laws in matters of opinion, are equally applicable to
tests, religious and political. The distinction between prizes and
penalties, between greater and less, has little tendency to change
the state of the question, if we have already proved that any dis-
couragement extended to the curiosity of intellect, and any
authoritative countenance afforded to one set of opinions in pre-
ference to another, is in its own nature unjust, and evidently
hostile to the general welfare.
Leaving out of the consideration religious tests, as being fully
comprehended in the preceding discussion,* let us attend for a
Chap. II.
122 OP TESTS.
moment, to an article which has had its advocates among men of
considerable liberality, the supposed propriety of political tests.
''Shall we have no federal oaths, no oaths of fidelity to the
nation, the law and the republic ? How in that case shall we
distinguish, between the enemies, and the friends of freedom ?"
Certainly there cannot be a method devised for this purpose,
at once more iniquitous and ineffectual than a federal oath.
What is the language that, in strictness of interpretation, belongs
to the act of the legislature imposing this oath ? To one party it
says, " We know that you are our friends ; the oath, as it relates
to you, we acknowledge to be superfluous; nevertheless you
must take it as a cover to our indirect purposes, in imposing it upon
persons, whose views are less unequivocal than yours." To the
other party it says, "It is vehemently suspected that you are
hostile to the cause in which we are engaged : this suspicion is
either true or false ; if false, we ought not to suspect you, and
much less ought we to put you to this corrupting and nugatory
purgation ; if true, you will either candidly confess your differ-
ence, or dishonestly prevaricate : be candid, and we will indig-
nantly banish you; be dishonest, and we will receive you as
bosom-friends."
Those who say this however, promise too much. Duty and
common sense oblige us to watch the man Ave suspect, even
though he should swear he is innocent. Would not the same
precautions, which we are still obliged to employ, to secure us
against his duplicity, have sufficiently answered our purpose,
without putting him to this purgation ? Are there no methods,
by which we can find, whether a man be the proper subject in
whom to repose an important trust, without putting the question
to himself? Will not he who is so dangerous an enemy that we
cannot suffer him at large, discover his enmity by his conduct,
without reducing us to the painful necessity of tempting him to
an act of prevarication ? If he be so subtle a hypocrite that all
our vigilance cannot detect him, will he scruple to add to his
other crimes the guilt of perjury ?
Whether the test we impose, be merely intended to operate, as
an exclusion from office, or to any more considerable disadvan-
tage, the disability it introduces is still in the nature of a punish-
ment. It treats the individual in question, as an unsound member
of society, as distinguished, in an unfavourable sense, from the
majority of his countrymen, and possessing certain attributes
detrimental to the general interest. In the eye of reason, human
nature is capable of no other guilt than this.* Society is autho-
rised to animadvert upon a certain individual, in the case of
murder, for example, not because he has done an action that he
might have avoided, not because he was sufficiently informed of
the better, and obstinately chose the worse ; for this is impossible,
erery man necessarily does that which, he at the time apprenends
* Book IV, Chap. VIII.
OF TESTS. 123
to be best: but because his habits and character render him
dangerous to society, in the same sense as a -wolf or a blight
would be dangerous.* It must, no doubt, be an emergency of
no common magnitude, that can justify a people in putting a mark
of displeasure upon a man, for the opinions he entertains, be
they what they may. But, taking for granted, for the present,
the propriety of such a measure, it would certainly be just a>
equitable, to administer, to the man accused for murder, an oath
of purgation, as to the man accused of disaffection to the esta-
blished order of society. The proof of this injustice is to be
found in the nature of punishment. It would be well, in ordinary
cases at least, that a man were allowed to propose to his neigh-
bour what questions he pleased, and, in general, his duty would
prompt him to give an explicit answer. But when you punish a
man, you suspend the treatment that is due to him as a rational
being, and consequently your own claim to a reciprocation of that
treatment. You demand from him an impartial confession, at
the same time that you employ a most powerful motive to pre-
varication, and menace him with a serious injury in return for
his ingenuousness.
These reasonings being particularly applicable to a people in a
state of revolution, like the French, it may perhaps be allowable
to take, from their revolution an example of the injurious and
ensnaring effects, with which tests, and oaths of fidelity, are
usually attended. It was required of all men, in the year 1791,
to swear, " that they would be faithful to the nation, the law,
and the king.'* In what sense can they be said to have adhered
to their oath, who, twelve months after their constitution had
been established on its new basis, have taken a second oath
declaratory of their everlasting abjuration of monarchy ? What
sort of effect, favourable or unfavourable, must this precarious
mutability in their solemn appeals to heaven, have, upon the
minds of those by whom they are made ?
And this leads us, from the consideration of the supposed
advantages of tests, religious and political, to their real disad-
vantages. The first of these disadvantages consists in the im-
possibility of constructing a test in such a manner, as to suit the
various opinions of those upon whom it is imposed, and not to
be liable to reasonable objection. When the law was repealed,
imposing, upon the dissenting clergy of England, a subscription,
with certain reservations, to the articles of the established church,
an attempt was made to invent an unexceptionable test that
might be substituted in its room. This test simply affirmed,
" that the books of the Old and New Testament, in the opinion
of the person who took it, contained a revelation from God ;"
and it was supposed, that no Christian could scruple such a
declaration. But is it impossible, that I should be a Christian,
and yet doubt of the canonical authority of the amatory eco-
* Hook IV., Chap. Vlir.
124 OF TESTS.
logues of Solomon, or of certain other books, contained in a
selection that was originally made in a very arbitrary manner ?
" Still however I may take the test, with a persuasion that the
books of the Old and New Testament contain a revelation from
God, and something more." In the same sense I might take it,
even if the Koran, the Talmud, and the sacred books of the
Hindoos, were added to the list. What sort of influence will be
produced, upon the mind, that is accustomed to this looseness of
construction in its most solemn engagements ?
Let us examine, with the same view, the federal oath of the
French, proclaiming the determination of the swearer "to be
faithful to the nation, the law, and the king." Fidelity to three
several interests, which may, in various cases, be placed in oppo-
sition to each other, will appear at first sight to be no very rea-
sonable engagement. The propriety of vowing fidelity to the
king, has already been brought to the trial, and received its con-
demnation.* Fidelity to the law, is an engagement of so com-
plicated a nature, as to strike terror into every mind of serious
reflection. It is impossible, that a system of law, the composition
of men, should ever be presented to such a mind, that shall
appear faultless. But, with respect to laws that appear to me
to be unjust, I am bound to every kind of hostility short of open
violence ; I am bound to exert myself incessantly, in proportion
to the magnitude of the injustice, for their abolition. Fidelity to
the nation, is an engagement scarcely less equivocal. I have a
paramount engagement, to the cause of justice, and the benefit of
the human race. If the nation undertake what is unjust, fidelity
in that undertaking is a crime. If it undertake what is just, it
is my duty to promote its success, not because I was born one of
its citizens, but because such is the command of justice.
It may be alleged, with respect to the French federal oath, as
well as with respect to the religious test before cited, that it may
be taken with a certain laxity of interpretation. When I swear
fidelity to the law, I may mean only, that there are certain parts
of it that I approve. When I swear fidelity to the nation, the
law, and the king, I may mean, so far only, as these three
authorities shall agree with each other, and all of them agree
with the general welfare of mankind. In a word, the final result
of this laxity of interpretation, explains the oath to mean, " I
swear, that I believe it is my duty, to do everything that appears
to me to be just." Who can look without indignation and regret,
at this prostitution of language ? Who can think, without horror,
of the consequences, of the public and perpetual lesson of du-
plicity which is thus read to mankind ?
But, supposing there should be certain members of the com-
munity, simple and uninstructed enough to conceive, that an oath
contained some real obligation, and did not leave the duty of the
person to whom it was administered, precisely where it found it,
* Book V., Chap. II VIII.
OF OATHS. 125
what is the lesson that would be read to such members ? They
would listen, with horror, to the man, who endeavoured to per-
suade them, that they owed no fidelity to the nation, the law,
and the king, as to one who was instigating them to sacrilege.
They would tell him that it was too late, and that they must not
allow themselves to hear his arguments. They would perhaps
have heard enough before their alarm commenced, to make them
look with envy on the happy state of this man, who was free to
listen to the communications of others without terror, who could
give a loose to his thoughts, and intrepidly follow the course of
his enquiries wherever they led him. For themselves they had
promised to think no more for the rest of their lives. Compliance
indeed in this case is impossible ; but will a vow of inviolable
adherence to a certain constitution, have no effect in checking
the vigour of their contemplations, and the elasticity of their
minds ?
We put a miserable deception upon ourselves, when we pro-
mise ourselves the most favourable effects from the abolition of
monarchy and aristocracy, and retain this wretched system of
tests, overturning, in the apprehensions of mankind at large, the
fundamental distinctions of justice and injustice. Sincerity is
not less essential, than equality, to the well-being of mankind.
A government, that is perpetually furnishing motives to Jesuitism
and hypocrisy, is not less in hostility with reason, than a govern-
ment of orders and hereditary distinction. It is not easy to
imagine how soon men would become frank, explicit in their
declarations, and unreserved in their manners, were there no
positive institutions, inculcating upon them the necesssity of
falsehood and disguise. Nor is it possible for any language to
describe, the inexhaustible benefits, that would arise from the
universal practice of sincerity.
CHAP. V.
OF OATHS.
Oaths of office and duty. Their absurdity. Their immoral conse-
quences. Oaths of evidence less atrocious. Opinion of the liberal
and resolved respecting them. Their essential features : contempt of
veracity false morality. Their particular structure. Abstract
principles assumed by them to be true. Their inconsistency u'ith
these principles.
THE same arguments that prove the injustice of tests, may be
applied universally to all oaths of duty and office. If I entered
upon the office without an oath, what would be my duty ? Can
126 OF OATHS.
the oath that is imposed upon me make any alteration in my
duty ? If not, does not the very act of imposing it, by implica-
tion assert a falsehood ? Will this falsehood have no injurious
effect upon a majority of the persons concerned ? What is the
true criterion that I shall faithfully discharge the office that is
conferred upon me ? Surely my past life, not any protestations
I may be compelled to make. If my life have been unimpeach-
able, this compulsion is an unmerited insult; if it have been
otherwise, it is something worse.
It is with no common disapprobation, that a man of unde-
bauched understanding will reflect upon the prostitution of oaths,
which marks the history of modern European countries, and par-
ticularly of our own. This is one of the means that government
employs, to discharge itself of its proper functions, by making
each man security for himself. It is one of the means that legis-
lators have provided, to cover the inefficiency and absurdity of
their regulations, by making individuals promise the execution
of that which the police is not able to execute. It holds out, in
one hand, the temptation to do wrong, and, in the other, the
obligation imposed not to be influenced by that temptation. It
compels a man to engage, not only for his own conduct, but for
that of all his dependants. It obliges certain officers (church-
wardens in particular), to promise an inspection beyond the
limits of human faculties, arid to engage for a proceeding, on the
part of those under their jurisdiction, which they neither intend,
nor are empowered to enforce. Will it be believed in after ages,
that every considerable trader in exciseable articles in this coun-
try, is induced, by the constitution of its government, to reconcile
his mind to the guilt of prejury, as to the condition upon which
he is allowed to exercise his profession ?
There remains only one species of oaths to be considered,
which have found their advocates among persons sufficiently
speculative to reject every other species of oath, I mean, oaths
administered to a witness in a court of justice. " These are cer-
tainly free from many of the objections, that apply to oaths of
fidelity, duty, or office. They do not call upon a man, to declare
his assent to a certain proposition, which the legislator has pre-
pared for his acceptance; they only require him, solemnly to
pledge himself to the truth of assertions, dictated by his own ap-
prehension of things, and expressed in his own words. They do
not require him, to engage for something future, and, of conse-
quence, to shut up his mind against further information, as to
what his conduct in that future ought to be ; but merely to pledge
his veracity to the apprehended order of things past."
These considerations palliate the evil, but do not convert it
into good. Wherever, in any quarter of the globe, men of
peculiar energy and dignity of mind have existed, they have felt
the degradation of binding their assertions with an oath. The
English constitution recognises, in a partial and imperfect manner,
the force of this principle, and therefore provides that, while the
OF OATHS. 127
common herd of mankind shall be obliged to confirm their de-
clarations with an oath, nothing more shall be required from the
order of nobles, in the very function which, in all other cases,
has emphatically received the appellation of juror, than a declar-
ation upon honour. Will reason justify this distinction ?
Can there be a practice more pregnant with false morality,
than that of administering oaths in a court of justice ? The lan-
guage it expressly holds is, "You are not to be believed upon
your mere word;" and there are few men, firm enough, reso-
lutely to preserve themselves from contamination, when they are
accustomed, upon the most solemn occasions, to be treated with
contempt. To the unthinking it comes like a plenary indulgence
to the occasional tampering with veracity in affairs of daily
occurrence, that they are not upon their oath ; and we may
affirm, without risk of error, that there is no cause of insincerity,
prevarication, and falsehood more powerful, than that we are
here considering. It treats veracity, in the scenes of ordinary
life, as a thing not to be looked for. It takes for granted that no
man, at least of plebeian rank, is to be credited upon his bare
affirmation ; and what it thus takes for granted, it has an irre-
sistible tendency to produce.
Add to this, a feature that runs through all the abuses of
political institution, it saps the very foundations of moral princi-
ple. Why is it that I am bound to be more especially careful of
what I affirm in a court of justice ? Because the subsistence, the
honest reputation, or the life of a fellow man, is there peculiarly
at issue. All these genuine motives are, by the contrivance of
human institution, thrown into shade, and we are expected to
speak the truth, only because government demands it of us upon
oath, and at the times in which government has thought proper,
or recollected, to administer this oath. All attempts to strengthen
the obligations of morality by fictitious and spurious motives, will,
in the sequel, be found to have no tendency, but to relax them.
Men will never act with that liberal justice and conscious in-
tegrity, which are their highest ornament, till they come to under-
stand what men are. He that contaminates his lips with an
oath, must have been thoroughly fortified with previous moral in-
struction, if he be able afterwards to understand the beauty of an
unconstrained and simple integrity. If our political institutors
had been but half as judicious, in perceiving the manner in
which excellence and worth were to be generated, as they have
been ingenious and indefatigable in the means of depraving man-
kind, the world, instead of a slaughter-house, would have been a
paradise.
Let us leave, for a moment, the general consideration of the
principle of oaths, to reflect upon their particular structure, and
the precise meaning of the term. They take for granted, in the
first place, the existence of an invisible governor of the world,
and the propriety of our addresssing petitions to him, both which
a man may deny, and yet continue a good member of society.
128 OF LIBELS.
What is the situation, in which the institution of which we treat,
places this man ? But we must not suffer ourselves to be stopped
by trivial considerations. Oaths are also so constructed, as to
take for granted the religious system of the country, whatever it
may happen to be.
Now what are the words with which we are taught, in this in-
stance, to address the creator, whose existence we have thus re-
cognised ? " So help me God, and the contents of his holy
word." It is the language of imprecation. I pray him to pom-
down his everlasting wrath and curse upon me, if I utter a lie.
It were to be wished that the name of that man had been re-
corded, who first invented this mode of binding men to veracity.
He had surely himself very slight and contemptuous notions of
the Supreme Being, who could thus tempt men to insult him, by
braving his displeasure. If it be thought to be our duty to invoke
his blessing, yet surely it must be a most hardened profaneness,
that can thus be content to put all the calamity with which he is
able to overwhelm us, to the test of one moment's rectitude or
frailty.
CHAP. VI.
OF LIBELS.
Public libels. Injustice of an attempt to prescribe the method in which
public questions shall be discussed. Its pusillanimity. Invitations to
tumult. Private libels. Reasons in favour of their being subjected
to restraint. Answer. 1, It is necessary the truth should T>e told.
Salutary effects of the unrestrained investigation of character.
Objection : freedom of speech would be productive of calumny, not of
justice. Answer, Future history of libel. 2, It is necessary men
should be taught to be sincere. Extent of the evil which arises from a
command to be insincere. The mind spontaneously shrinks from the
prosecution of a libel. Conclusion.
IN the examination already bestowed upon the article of heresy,
political and religious,* we have anticipated one of the heads of
the law of libel ; and, if the arguments there adduced be admitted
for valid, it will follow, that no punishment can justly be awarded,
against any writing or words, derogatory to religion or political
government.
It is impossible to establish any solid ground of distinction
upon this subject, or to lay down rules in conformity to which
controversies, political or religious, must be treated. It is impos-
Chap. III.
OF LIBELS. 12
sible to toll mo, -when I am penetrated with the magnitude of tlio
subject, that I must be logical, and not eloquent : or, when I feel
the absurdity of the theory I am combating, that I must not ex-
press it in terms that shall produce feelings of ridicule in my
readers. It were better to forbid me the discussion of the subject
altogether, than forbid me to describe it in the manner I conceive
to be most suitable to its merits. It would be a most tyrannical
species of candour to tell me, "You may write against the
system we patronise, provided you will write in an imbecile and
ineffectual manner ; you may enquire and investigate as much as
you please, provided, when you undertake to communicate the
result, you carefully check your ardour, and be upon your guard!
that you do not convey any of your own feelings to your readers.' 5
In subjects connected with the happiness of mankind, the feeling
is the essence. If I do not describe the miserable effects of
fanaticism and abuse, if I do not excite in the mind a sentiment
of aversion and ardour, I had better leave the subject altogether,
for I am betraying the cause of which I profess to be the advo-
cate. Add to this, that rules of distinction, as they are absurd in
relation to the dissidents, will prove a continual instrument of
usurpation and injustice to the ruling party. No reasonings will
appear lair to them, but such as are futile. If I speak with
energy, they will deem me inflammatory ; and if I describe cen-
surable proceedings in plain and homely, but pointed language,
they will cry out upon me as a buffoon.
It must be truly a deplorable case, if truth, favoured by the
many, and patronised by the great, should prove too weak to
enter the lists with falsehood. It is in a manner self-evident,,
that that which will stand the test of examination, cannot need
the support of penal statutes. After our adversaries have ex-
hausted their eloquence, and exerted themselves to mislead us,.
truth has a clear, nervous, and simple story to tell, which, if force
be excluded on all sides, will not fail to put down their arts.
Misrepresentation will speedily vanish, if the friends of truth be
but half as alert, as the advocates of falsehood. Surely then it is
a most ungracious plea to offer, " We are too idle to reason with
you, and are therefore determined to silence you by force." So
long as the adversaries of justice confine themselves to expostula-
tion, there can be no ground for serious alarm. As soon as they
begin to act with violence and riot, it will be time enough to en-
counter them with force.
There is however one class of libel that seems to demand a
separate consideration. A libel may either not confine itself to
any species of illustration of religion or government, or it may
leave illustration entirely out of its view. Its object may be to
invite a multitude of persons to assemble, as the first step towards
acts of violence. A public libel, is any species of writing, in
"Which the wisdom of some established system is controverted ;
and it cannot be denied, that a dispassionate and severe demon-
stration of its injustice tends, not less than the most alarming
24. VOL. ii K
130 OF LIBELS.
tumult, to the destruction of such institutions. But writing and
speech are the proper and becoming methods of operating changes
in human society, and tumult is an improper and equivocal method.
In the case then of the specific preparations of riot, it should
seem, that the regular force of the society may lawfully interfere.
But this interference may be of two kinds. It may consist of
precautions to counteract all tumultuous concourse, or it may
arraign the individual, for the offence he has committed against
the peace of the community. The first of these seems sufficiently
commendable and wise, and would perhaps, if vigilantly exerted,
be, in almost all cases, adequate to the purpose. A firm and ex-
plicit language as to the preceding steps, a careful attention to
avoid unnecessary irritation and violence, and a temperate dis-
play of strength in case of extremity, might be expected always
to extricate the government in safety in these delicate exigencies.
It must be a very uncommon occasion, in which the mass of the
sober and effective part of the community, will not be found
inimical to disorderly and tumultuous proceedings. The second
idea, that of bringing the individual to account, for a proceeding
of this sort, is of a more doubtful nature. A libel the avoAved
intention of which is to lead to immediate violence, is altogether
different from a publication, in which the general merits of any
institution are treated with the utmost freedom, and may well be
supposed to fall under different rules. The difficulty here arises
from the consideration of the general nature of punishment, which
is abhorrent to the true principles of mind, and ought to be
restrained within as narrow limits as possible, if not immediately
abolished.* A distinction to which observation and experience,
in cases of judicial proceeding, have uniformly led, is that
between crimes that exist only in intention, and overt acts. So
far as prevention only is concerned, the former would seem, in
many cases, not less entitled to the animadversion of society, than
the latter ; but the evidence of intention usually rests upon cir-
cumstances equivocal and minute, and the friend of justice will
tremble to erect any grave proceeding upon so uncertain a basis, f
These reasonings on exhortations to tumult, will also be found
applicable, with slight variation, to incendiary letters addressed
to private persons.
But the law of libel, as we have already said, distributes itself
into two heads, libels against public establishments and mea-
sures, and libels against private character. Those who have been,
willing to admit, that the first ought to pass unpunished, have
generally asserted the propriety of counteracting the latter, by
censures and penalties. It shall be the business of the remainder
of this chapter, to show, that they were erroneous in their
decision.
The arguments upon which their decision is built, must be
allowed to be both popular and impressive. "There is no ex-
* See the following took. + Book VII., Chap. VII.
OF LIBELS. 131
ternal possession, more solid, or more valuable, than an honest
fame. My property, in goods or estate, is appropriated only by
convention. Its value is, for the most part, the creature of a
debauched imagination; and, if I were sufficiently wise and
philosophical, he that deprived me of it, would do me very little
injury. He that inflicts a stab upon my character, is a much
more formidable enemy. It is a very serious inconvenience, that
my countrymen should regard me as destitute of principle and
honesty. If the mischief were entirely to myself, it is not pos-
sible to be regarded with levity. I must be void of all sense of
justice, if I am callous to the contempt and detestation of the
world. I must cease to be a man, if I am unaffected by the
calumny that deprives me of the friend I love, and leaves me
perhaps without one bosom in which to repose my sympathies.
But this is not all. The same stroke that annihilates my cha-
racter, extremely abridges, if it do not annihilate, my usefulness.
It is in vain that I would exert my good intentions and my
talents for the assistance of others, if my motives be perpetually
misinterpreted. Men will not listen to the arguments of him
they despise; he will be spurned during life, and execrated as
long as his memory endures. What then are we to conclude,
but that to an injury, greater than robbery, greater perhaps than
murder, we ought to award an exemplary punishment ?"
The answer to this statement may be given in the form of an
illustration of two propositions : first, that it is necessary the
truth should be told ; secondly, that it is necessary men should be
taught to be sincere.
First, it is necessary the truth should be told. How can this
ever be done, if I be forbidden to speak upon more than one side
of a question ? The case is here exactly similar, to the case of
religion and political establishment. If we must always hear the
praise of things as they are, and allow no man to urge an objec-
tion, we may be lulled into torpid tranquillity, but we never can
be wise.
If a veil of partial favour is to be drawn over the indiscretions
and faults of mankind, it is easy to perceive whether virtue
or vice will be the gainer. There is no terror that comes home
to the heart of vice, like the terror of being exhibited to the
public eye. On the contrary, there is no reward worthy to be
bestowed upon eminent virtue, but this one, the plain, un-
varnished proclamation of its excellence in the face of the world.
If the unrestrained discussion of abstract enquiry be of the
highest importance to mankind, the unrestrained investigation of
character is scarcely less to be cultivated. If truth were univer-
sally told of men's dispositions and actions, gibbets and wheels
might be dismissed from the face of the earth. The knave un-
masked, would be obliged to turn honest in his own defence.
Nay, no man would have time to grow a knave. Truth would
follow him in his first irresolute essays, and public disapprobation
arrest him in the commencement of his career.
K2
132 OF LIBELS.
There are many men at present, who pass for virtuous, that
tremble at the boldness of a project like this. They 'would be
detected in their effeminacy and imbecility. Their imbecility
is the growth of that inauspicious secrecy, which national man-
ners, and political institutions, at present, draw over the actions
of individuals. If truth were spoken without reserve, there
would be no such men in existence. Men would act with clear-
ness and decision, if they had no hopes in concealment, if they
saw, at every turn, that the eye of the world was upon them.
How great would be the magnanimity of the man, who was
always sure to be observed, sure to be judged with discernment,
and to be treated with justice ? Feebleness of character would
hourly lose its influence, in the breast of those over whom it now
domineers. They would feel themselves perpetually urged, with
an auspicious violence, to assume manners more worthy of the
form they bear.
To these reasonings it may perhaps be rejoined, " This indeed
is an interesting picture. If truth could be universally told, the
effects would no doubt be of the most excellent nature ; but the
expectation is to be regarded as visionary."
Not so : the discovery of individual and personal truth, is to
be effected, in the same manner as the discovery of general truth,
by discussion. From the collision of disagreeing accounts,
justice and reason will be produced. Mankind seldom think
much of any particular subject, without coming to think right at
last.
" Is it then to be supposed, that mankind will have the discern-
ment and the justice, of their own accord, to reject the libel ?"
Yes; libels do not at present deceive mankind, from their in-
trinsic power, but from the restraint under which they labour.
The man who, from his dungeon, is brought to the light of day,
cannot accurately distinguish colours ; but he that has suffered no
confinement, feels no difficulty in the operation. Such is the
state of mankind at present: they are not exercised to employ
their judgment, and therefore they are deficient in judgment.
The most improbable tale now makes a deep impression ; but
then men would be accustomed to speculate upon the possibilities
of human action.
At first, it may be, if all restraint upon the freedom of writing-
and speech were removed, and men were encouraged to declare
what they thought, as publicly as possible, every press would be
burdened with an inundation of scandal. But the stories, by
their very multiplicity, would defeat themselves. No one man,
if the lie were successful, would become the object of universal
persecution. In a short time, the reader, accustomed to the dis-
section of character, would acquire discrimination. He would
either detect the imposition by its internal absurdity, or at least
would attribute to the story no further weight, than that to which
its evidence entitled it.
Libel, like every other human concern, would soon find its
OF LIBELS. 133
ievr-1, if it were delivered from the injurious interference of
political institution. The libeller, that is, he who utters an un-
founded calumny, either invents the story he tells, or delivers it
with a degree of assurance, to which the evidence that has
offered itself to him, is by no means entitled. In each case he
would meet with his proper punishment in the judgment of the
world. The consequences of his error would fall back upon him-
self. He would either pass for a malignant accuser, or for a
rash and headlong censurer. Anonymous scandal would be
almost impossible, in a state where nothing was concealed. .But,
if it were attempted, it would be wholly pointless, since, where
there could be no honest and rational excuse for concealment,
the desire to be concealed, would prove the baseness of the motive.
Secondly, force ought not to intervene for the suppression of
private libels, because men ought to learn to be sincere. There
is no branch of virtue more essential, than that which consists in
giving language to our thoughts. He that is accustomed to utter
what he knows to be false, or to suppress what he knows to be
true, is in a state of perpetual degradation. If I have had par-
ticular opportunity to observe any man's vices, justice will not fail
to suggest to me, that I ought to admonish him of his errors, and
to warn those whom his errors might injure. There may be very
sufficient ground for my representing him as a vicious man,
though I may be totally unable to demonstrate his vices, so as to
make him a proper subject of judicial punishment. Nay, it can-
not be otherwise ; for I ought to describe his character exactly as
it appears to be, whether it be virtuous or vicious, or of an
ambiguous nature. Ambiguity would presently cease, if every
man avowed his sentiments. It is here as in the intercourses of
friendship: a timely explanation seldom fails to heal a broil;
misunderstandings would not grow considerable, w r ere we not in,
the habit of brooding over imaginary wrongs.
Laws forjLhe suppression of private libels arc, properly speak- T
ing7 Taws tcTrestrain men from the practice of sincerity. They
| create a warfare, between the genuine dictates of unbiassed
: private judgment, and the apparent sense of the community ;
throwing obscurity upon the principles of virtue, and inspiring
, an indifference to the practice. This is one of those consequences
of political institution that presents itself at every moment :
morality is rendered the victim of uncertainty and doubt. Con-
tradictory systems of conduct contend with each other for the
preference, and I become indifferent to them all. How is it pos-
sible that I should imbibe the divine enthusiasm of benevolence
and justice, when I am prevented from discerning what it is in
^iii c ll_tliey_consist ? Other laws assume for the topic of their
animadversion actions of unfrequent occurrence. But the law of
libels usurps the office of directing me in my daily duties, and,
by perpetually menacing me with the scourge of punishment,
undertakes to render me habitually a coward, continually
governed by the basest and most unprincipled motives.
134 OF LIBELS.
Courage consists more in this circumstance than in any other,
the daring to speak everything, the uttering of which may con-
duce to good. Actions, the performance of -which requires an
inflexible resolution, call upon us but seldom ; but the virtuous
economy of speech is our perpetual affair. Every moralist can
tell us, that morality eminently consists in " the government of
the tongue." But this branch of morality has long been inverted.
Instead of studying what we shall tell, we are taught to consider
what we shall conceal. Instead of an active virtue, " going about
doing good," we are instructed to believe that the chief end of
man is to do no mischief. Instead of fortitude, we are carefully
imbued with maxims of artifice and cunning, misnamed prudence.
Let us contrast the character of those men with whom we are-
accustomed to converse, with the character of men such as they
ought to be, and will be. On the one side, we perceive a per-
petual caution, that shrinks from the observing eye, that conceals,
with a thousand folds, the genuine emotions of the heart, and that
renders us unwilling to approach the men that we suppose accus-
tomed to read it, and to tell what they read. Such characters as
ours, are the mere shadows of men, with a specious outside per-
haps, but destitute of substance and soul. When shall we arrive
at the land of realities, where men shall be known for what they
are, by energy of thought, and intrepidity of action ! It is forti-
tude, that must render a man superior alike to caresses and
threats, enable him to derive his happiness from within, and ac-
custom him to be, upon all occasions, prompt to assist and to
inform. Everything, therefore, favourable to fortitude, must be
of inestimable value ; everything that inculcates dissimulation,
worthy of our fullest disapprobation.
There is one thing more that is of importance to be observed
upon this subject of libel, which is, the good effects that would
spring, from every man's being accustomed to encounter falsehood
with its only proper antidote, truth. After all the arguments that
have been industriously accumulated to justify prosecution for
libel, every man that will retire into himself, feels himself con-
vinced of their insufficiency. The modes in which an innocent
and a guilty man would repel an accusation against them, might
be expected to be opposite ; but the law of libel confounds them.
He that was conscious of his rectitude, and undebauched by ill
systems of government, would say to his adversary, " Publish
what you please against me, I have truth on my side, and will
confound your misrepresentations." His sense of fitness and jus-
tice would not permit him to say, " I will have recourse to the
only means that are congenial to guilt, I will compel you to be
silent." A man, urged by indignation and impatience, may com-
mence a prosecution against his accuser ; but he may be assured,
the world, that is a disinterested spectator, feels no cordiality for
his proceedings. The language of their sentiments upon such oc-
casions is, " What ! he dares not even let us hear what can be
said against him."
OF CONSTITUTIONS. 13&
The arguments in favour of justice, however different may be
the views under which it is considered, perpetually run parallel
to each other. The recommendations under this head, are pre-
cisely the same as those under the preceding, the generation of
activity and fortitude. The tendency of all false systems of
political institution, is to render the mind lethargic and torpid.
Were we accustomed not to recur either to public or individual
force, but upon occasions that unequivocally justified their em-
ployment, we should then come to have some respect for reason,
for we should know its power. How great must be the difference,*^
between him who answers me with a writ of summons or a chal-
lenge, and him who employs the sword and the shield of truth
alone ? He knows that force only is to be encountered with force,
and allegation with allegation ; and he scorns to change places }
with the offender by being the first .to break the peace. He does
that which, were it not for the degenerate habits of society, would
scarcely deserve the name of courage, dares to meet, upon equal
ground, with the sacred armour of truth, an adversary who pos-
sesses only the perishable weapons of falsehood. He calls up his j
understanding ; and does not despair of baffling the shallow pre- j
tenccs of calumny. He calls up his firmness ; and knows that a \
plain story, every word of which is marked with the emphasis of j
sincerity, will carry conviction to every hearer. It were absurd
to expect that truth should be cultivated, so long as we are ac-
customed to believe that it is an impotent incumbrance. It would
be impossible to neglect it, if we knew that it was as impenetrable
as adamant, and. as lasting as the world.
CHAP. VII.
OF CONSTITUTIONS.
Distinction of regulations constituent and legislative. Supposed cha-
racter of permanence that ought to be given to the former inconsistent
with the nature of man. Source of the error. Remark. Absurdity
of' the system of permanence. Its futility. Mode to be pursued in
framing a constitution. Constituent laws not more important than
others. In what manner the consent of the districts is to be declared,
Tendency of the principle which requires this consent. It would
reduce the number of constitutional articles parcel out the legis-
lative power and produce the gradual extinction of law. Objection.
Answer.
A QUESTION, intimately connected with the political superin-
tendence of opinion, is presented to us, relative to a doctrine
which has lately been taught, upon the subject of constitutions.
136 OF CONSTITUTIONS.
It has been said, " that the laws of every regular state naturally
distribute themselves under two heads, fundamental and tem-
porary ; laws, the object of which is the distribution of political
power, and directing the permanent forms according to which
Sublic business is to be conducted ; and laws, the result of the
eliberations of powers already constituted." This distinction
being established in the first instance, it has been inferred, " that
these laws are of very unequal importance, and that, of conse-
quence, those of the first class ought to be originated with much
.greater solemnity, and to be declared much less susceptible of
variation, than those of the second." The French national as-
sembly of 1789, pushed this principle to the greatest extremity,
and seemed desirous of providing every imaginable security for
rendering the work they had formed immortal. It was not to be
-touched, upon any account, under the term of ten years; every
alteration it was to receive must be recognised as necessary, by
two successive national assemblies of the ordinary kind ; after
these formalities, an assembly of revision was to be elected, and
they to be forbidden to amend the constitution in any other
points, than those which had been previously marked out for
their consideration.
It is easy to perceive that these precautions are in direct hos-
tility with the principles established in this work. " Man and
forever!" was the motto of the labours of this assembly. Just
broken loose from the thick darkness of an absolute monarchy,
they assumed to prescribe lessons of wisdom to all future ages.
They seem not so much as to have dreamed of that purification
of intellect, that climax of improvement, which may very pro-
bably be the destiny of posterity. The true state of man, as has
been already said, is, not to have his opinions bound down in the
fetters of an eternal quietism, but, flexible and unrestrained, to
yield with facility to the impressions of accumulating observation
and experience. That form of society will, of consequence,
appear most eligible, which is least founded in a principle of per-
manence. But, if this view of the subject be just, the idea of
giving permanence to what is called the constitution of any
government, and rendering one class of laws, under the appella-
tion of fundamental, less susceptible of change than another,
must be founded in misapprehension and error.
The error probably originally sprung out of the forms of politi-
cal monopoly, which we see established over the whole civilised
world. Government could not justly fiow r , in the first instance,
but from the choice of the peop'e ; or, perhaps, more accurately
speaking, ought to be adjusted in its provisions, to the prevailing
apprehensions of equity and truth. But we see government at
present administered, either in whole or in part, by a king and
a body of noblesse ; and we reasonably say, that the laws made
by these authorities are one thing, and the laws from which they
derived their existence another. Now this, and indeed every
species of exclusive institution, presents us with a dilemma,
OF CONSTITUTIONS. 137
memorable in its nature, and hard of solution. If the prejudices
of a nation are decisively favourable to a king or a body of
noblesse, it seems impossible to say, that a king, or a body of
noblesse, should not form part of their government. But then,
on the other hand, the moment you admit this species of exclusive
institution, you counteract the purpose for which it was admitted,
and deprive the sentiments of the people of their genuine operation.
If we had never seen arbitrary and capricious forms of govern-
ment, we should probably never have thought of cutting off
certain laws from the code, under the name of constitutional.
When we behold certain individuals or bodies of men, exercising
an exclusive superintendence over the affairs of a nation, we
inevitably ask how they came by their authority, and the answer
is, By the constitution. But, if we saw no power existing in the
state but that of the people, having a body of representatives, and
a certain number of official secretaries and clerks acting in their
behalf, subject to their revisal, and renewable at their pleasure,
the question, how the people came by this authority, would never
have suggested itself.
A celebrated objection that has been urged against the govern-
ments of modern Europe is, "that they have no constitutions."*
If, by this objection, it be understood that they have no written
code bearing this appellation, and that their constitutions have
been less an instantaneous, than a gradual production, the
criticism seems to be rather verbal, than of essential moment. la
any other sense, it is to be suspected, that the remark would
amount to an eulogium, but an eulogium to which they are cer-
tainly by no means entitled.
But to return to the question of permanence. Whether we
admit or reject the distinction between constitutional and ordi-
nary legislation, it is not less true that the power of a nation to
change its constitution, morally considered, must be strictly and
universally coeval with the existence of a constitution. The
language of permanence, in this case, is the grossest absurdity.
It is to say to a nation, " Are you convinced that something is
right, perhaps immediately necessary, to be done ? It shall be
done ten years hence."
The folly of this system may be further elucidated, if further
elucidation be necessary, from the following dilemma. Either a
people must be governed according to their own apprehensions of
justice and truth, or they must not. The last of these assertions
cannot be avowed, but upon the unequivocal principles of
tyranny. But, if the first be true, then it is just as absurd to say
to a nation, " This government, which you chose nine years ago, is
the legitimate government, and the government which your
preset t sentiments approve, the illegitimate;" as to insist upon
their being governed by the dicta of their remotest ancestors, or
even of the most insolent usurper.
* Paine's Eights of Man.
138 OF CONSTITUTIONS.
It is extremely probable, that a national assembly, chosen in
the ordinary forms, is just as well entitled to change the funda-
mental laws, as to change any of the least important branches of
legislation. This function would never, perhaps, be dangerous,
but in a country that still preserved a portion of monarchy or
aristocracy ; and, in such a country, a principle of permanence
would be found a very feeble antidote against the danger. The
true principle upon the subject is, that no assembly, though
chosen with the most unexampled solemnity, is competent to im-
pose any regulations, contrary to the public apprehension of
right; and a very ordinary authority, fairly originated, will be
sufficient to facilitate the harmonious adoption of a change that
is dictated by national opinion. The distinction of constitutional
and ordinary topics will always appear in practice, unintelligible
and vexatious. The assemblies of more frequent recurrence,
will find themselves arrested in the intention of conferring
eminent benefit on their country, by the apprehension that they
shall invade the constitution. In a country where the people are
habituated to sentiments of equality, and where no political
monopoly is tolerated, there is little danger that any national
assembly should be disposed to enforce a pernicious change, and
there is still less, that the people should submit to the injury,
or not possess the means, easily, and with small interruption of
public tranquillity to avert it. The language of reason, on this
subject is, " Give us equality and justice, but no constitution.
Suffer us to follow, without restraint, the dictates of our own
judgment, and to change our forms of social order, as fast as we
improve in understanding and knowledge."
The opinion upon this head, most popular in France at the
time (1792) that the national convention entered upon its func-
tions, was, that the business of a convention extended only to the
presenting the draught of a constitution, to be submitted in the
sequel to the approbation of the districts, and, subsequently only
to that approbation, to be considered as law. This opinion is
deserving of a serious examination.
The first idea that suggests itself respecting it, is, that, if con-
stitutional laws ought to be subjected to the revision of the dis-
tricts, then all laws ought to undergo the same process, under-
standing by laws all declarations of a general principle, to be
applied to particular cases as they may happen to occur, and even
including all provisions for individual emergencies, that will admit
of the delay incident to the revision in question. It is a mistake
to imagine, that the importance of these articles is in a descend-
ing ratio, from fundamental to ordinary, and from ordinary to
particular. It is possible for the most odious injustice to be
perpetrated, by the best constituted legislature that ever was
framed. A law, rendering it capital to oppose the doctrine of
transubstantiation, would be more injurious to the public welfare,
than a law changing the duration of the national representative,
from two years, to one year, or to three. Taxation has been
OP CONSTITUTIONS. 139
shown to be an article, rather of executive, than legislative ad-
ministration ;* and yet a very oppressive and unequal tax, would
be scarcely less ruinous than any single measure that could pos-
sibly be devised.
It may further be remarked, that an approbation demanded
from the districts to certain constitutional articles, whether more
or less numerous, will be either real or delusive, according to the
mode adopted for that purpose. If the districts be required to
decide upon these articles by a simple affirmative or negative, it
will then be delusive. It is impossible for any man or body 01
men, in the due exercise of their understanding, to decide upon any
complicated system iu that manner. It can scarcely happen, but
that there will be some things that they would approve, and some
that they would disapprove. On the other hand, if the articles
be unlimitedly proposed for discussion in the districts, a transac-
tion will be begun, to which it is not easy to foresee a termina-
tion. Some districts will object to certain articles; and if these
articles be modelled to obtain their approbation, it is possible that
the very alteration, introduced to please one part of the commu-
nity, may render the code less acceptable to another. How are
we to be assured that the dissidents will not set up a separate
government for themselves ? The reasons that might be offered
to persuade a minority of districts to yield to the sense of a
majority, are by no means so perspicuous and forcible, as those
which sometimes persuade the minority of members in a given
assembly, to that species of concession.
It is desirable, in all cases of the practical adoption of any
given principle, that we should fully understand the meaning of
the principle, and perceive the conclusions to which it inevitably
leads. This principle of a consent of districts, has an imme-
diate tendency, by a salutary gradation perhaps, to lead to the
dissolution of all government. What then can be more ab-
surd, than to see it embraced by those very men who are, at
the same time, advocates for the complete legislative unity of a
great empire ? It is founded upon the same basis as the principle
of private judgment, which, in proportion as it impresses itself on
the minds of men, may be expected perhaps to supersede the
possibility of the action of society in a collective capacity. It is
desirable, that the most important acts of the national represen-
tatives, should be subject to the approbation or rejection of the
districts, whose representatives they are, for exactly the same
reason that it is desirable, that the acts of the districts themselves
should, as speedily as practicability will admit, be in force, only
so far as relates to the individuals by whom those acts are
approved.
The first consequence that would result, not from the delusive,
but the real establishment of this principle, would be the reduc-
tion of the constitution to a very small number of articles. The
* Book V., Chap. I.
140 OF CONSTITUTIONS.
impracticability of obtaining the deliberate approbation of a great
number of districts to a very complicated code, would speedily
manifest itself. In reality, the constitution of a state, governed
either in whole or in part by a political monopoly, must neces-
sarily be complicated. But what need of complexity, in a coun-
try where the people are destined to govern themselves ? The
whole constitution of such a country ought scarcely to exceed two
articles ; first, a scheme for the division of the whole into parts
equal in their population, and, secondly, the fixing of stated
periods for the election of a national assembly : not to say that
the latter of these articles may very probably be dispensed with.
A second consequence, that results from the principle of which
we are treating, is as follows. It has already appeared, that the
reason is no less cogent, for submitting important legislative
articles to the revisal of the districts, than for submitting the con-
stitutional articles themselves. But, after a few experiments of
this sort, it cannot fail to suggest itself, that the mode of sending
laws to the districts for their revision, unless in cases essential to
the general safety, is a proceeding unnecessarily circuitous, and
that it would be better, in as many instances as possible, to suffer
the districts to make laws for themselves, without the interven-
tion of the national assembly. The justness of this consequence
is implicitly assumed in the preceding paragraph, while we stated
the very narrow bounds within which the constitution of an
empire, such as that of France for example, might be circum-
scribed. In reality, provided the country were divided into con-
venient districts with a power of sending representatives to the
general assembly, it does not appear that any ill consequences
would ensue to the common cause, from these districts being per-
mitted to regulate their internal affairs, in conformity to their
own apprehensions of justice. Thus, that which was, at first, a
great empire with legislative unity, would speedily be transformed
into a confederacy of lesser republics, with a general congress or
Amphictyonic council, answering the purpose of a point of co-
operation upon extraordinary occasions. The ideas of a great
empire, and legislative unity, are plainly the barbarous remains
of the days of military heroism. In proportion as political power
is brought home to the citizens, and simplified into something of
the nature of parish regulation, the danger of misunderstanding
and rivalship will be nearly annihilated. In proportion as the
science of government is divested of its present mysterious ap-
pearances, social truth will become obvious, and the districts
pliant and flexible to the dictates of reason.
A third consequence, sufficiently memorable, from the same
principle, is the gradual extinction of law. A great assembly,
collected from the different provinces of an extensive territory,
and constituted the sole legislator of those by whom the territory
is inhabited, immediately conjures up to itself an idea of the vast
multitude of laws, that are necessary for regulating the concerns
of those whom it represents. A large city, impelled by the prin-
OF CONSTITUTIONS. 141
ciples of commercial jealousy, is not slow to digest the volume of
its by-laws and exclusive privileges. But the inhabitants of a
small parish, living with some degree of that simplicity which
best corresponds to the real nature and wants of a human being,
would soon be led to suspect that general laws were unnecessary,
and would adjudge the causes that came before them, not accord,
ing to certain axioms previously written, but according to the
circumstances and demand of each particular cause. It was pro-
per that this consequence should be mentioned in this place.
The benefits that will arise from the abolition of law, will come
to be considered in detail in the following book.*
The principal objection, that is usually made to the idea of
confederacy, considered as the substitute of legislative unity, is,
" the possibility that arises, of the members of the confederacy,
detaching themselves from the support of the public cause." To
give this objection every advantage, let us suppose, "that the
seat of the confederacy, like France, is placed in the midst of
surrounding nations, and that the governments of these nations
are anxious, by every means of artifice and violence, to suppress
the insolent spirit of liberty that has started up among this neigh-
bour people." It is to be believed that, even under these circum-
stances, the danger is more imaginary, than real. The national
assembly, being precluded, by the supposition, from the use of
force against the malcontent districts, is obliged to confine itself to
expostulation; and it is sufficiently observable, that our powers
of expostulation are tenfold increased, the moment our hopes are
confined to expostulation alone. They have to display, with the
utmost perspicuity and simplicity, the benefits of independence ;
to convince the public at large, that all they intend, is to enable
every district, and, as far as possible, every individual, to pursue
unmolested its own ideas of propriety; and that, under their
auspices, there shall be no tyranny, no arbitrary punishments,
such as proceed from the jealousy of councils and courts, no
exactions, almost no taxation. Some ideas respecting this last
subject will speedily occur.f It is not possible but that, in a
country rescued from the inveterate evils of despotism, the love
of liberty should be considerably diffused. The adherents there-
fore of the public cause, will be many : the malcontents few. If
a small number of districts were so far blinded, as to be willing
to surrender themselves to oppression and slavery, it is probable
they would soon repent. Their desertion would inspire the more
enlightened and courageous with additional energy. It would be
a fascinating spectacle, to see the champions of the general welfare
eagerly declaring, that they desired none but willing supporters.
It is not possible that so magnanimous a principle, should not con-
tribute more to the advantage, than the injury of their cause.
Book VII., Chap. VIII. t P. 150, 151.
142 OF NATIONAL EDUCATION.
CHAP. VIII.
OF NATIONAL EDUCATION.
Arguments in its favour. Answer. 1, It produces permanence of opin-
ion. Nature of prejudice and judgment described. 2, It requires
uniformity of operation. 3, It is the mirror and tool of national
government. The right of punishing, not founded in the previous
function of instructing.
A MODE in which government has been accustomed to interfere,
for the purpose of influencing opinion, is, by the superintendence
it has, in a greater or less degree, exerted, in the article of educa-
tion. It is worthy of observation, that the idea of this superin-
tendence, has obtained the countenance of several of the zealous
advocates of political reform. The question relative to its pro-
priety or impropriety, is entitled, on that account, to the more
deliberate examination.
The arguments in its favour have been already anticipated.
*' Can it be justifiable in those persons, who are appointed to the
functions of magistracy, and whose duty it is to consult for the
public welfare, to neglect the cultivation of the infant mind, and
to suffer its future excellence or depravity to be at the disposal of
fortune ? Is it possible for patriotism and the love of the public
to be made the characteristic of a whole people, in any other way
so successfully, as by rendering the early communication of these
virtues a national concern ? If the education of our youth be
entirely confided to the prudence of their parents, or the acci-
dental benevolence of private individuals, will it not be a neces-
sary consequence, that some will be educated to virtue, others to
^vice, and others again entirely neglected ?" To these considera-
iions it has been added, " That the maxim which has prevailed
in the majority of civilised countries, that ignorance of the law is
no apology for the breach of it, is in the highest degree iniqui-
tous; and that government cannot justly punish us for our crimes
"when committed, unless it have forewarned us against their com-
mission, which cannot be adequately done without something of
the nature of public education."
The propriety or impropriety of any project for this purpose,
must be determined by the general consideration of its beneficial
or injurious tendency. If the exertions of the magistrate in
behalf of any system of instruction, will stand the tesi, as con-
ducive to the public service, undoubtedly he cannot be justified
in neglecting them. If, on the contrary, they conduce to injury,
it is wrong and unjustifiable that they should be made.
The injuries that result from a system of national education, are,
in the first place, that all public establishments include in them the
idea of permanence. They endeavour, it may be, to secure and to
diffuse whatever of advantageous to society is already known, but
they forget tnat more remains to be known. If they realised the
OF NATIONAL EDUCATION. 143
most substantial benefits at the time of their introduction, they
must inevitably become less and less useful as they increased in
duration. But to describe them as useless, is a very feeble ex-
pression of their demerits. They actively restrain the flights of
mind, and fix it in the belief of exploded errors. It has frequently
been observed of universities, and extensive establishments for
the purpose of education, that the knowledge taught there, is a
century behind the knowledge, which exists among the unshackled
and unprejudiced members of the same political community.
The moment any scheme of proceeding gains a permanent esta-
blishment, it becomes impressed, as one of its characteristic
features, with an aversion to change. Some violent concussion
may oblige its conductors to change an old system of philosophy
for a system less obsolete ; and they are then as pertinaciously
attached to this second doctrine, as they were to the first. Real
intellectual improvement demands, that mind should, as speedily
as possible, be advanced to the height of knowledge already exist-
ing among the enlightened members of the community, and start
from thence in the pursuit of further acquisitions. But public
education has always expended its energies in the support of pre-
judice; it teaches its pupils, not the fortitude that shall bring
every proposition to the test of examination, but the art of vindi-
cating such tenets as may chance to be established. We study
Aristotle, or Thomas Aquinas, or Bellarmine, or chief justice
Coke, not that we may detect their errors, but that our minds
may be fully impregnated with their absurdities. This feature
runs through every species of public establishment ; and, even in
the petty institution of Sunday schools, the chief lessons that are
taught, are a superstitious veneration for the church of England,
and to bow to every man in a handsome coat. All this is directly
contrary to the true interests of mankind. All this must be
unlearned, before we can begin to be wise.
It is the characteristic of mind to be capable of improvement.
An individual surrenders the best attribute of man, the moment
he resolves to adhere to certain fixed principles, for reasons not
now present to his mind, but which formerly were.* The instant
in which he shuts upon himself the career of enquiry, is the
instant of his intellectual decease. He is no longer a man; he is
the ghost of departed man. There can be no scheme more
egregiously stamped with folly, than that of separating a tenet
from the evidence upon which its validity depends. If I cease
from the habit of being able to recal this evidence, my belief
is no longer a perception, but a prejudice : it may influence
me like a prejudice ; but cannot animate me like a real appre-
hension of truth. The difference between the man thus guicUk
and the man that keeps his mind perpetually alive, i* the
difference between cowardice and fortitude. The mn who
is, in the best sense, an intellectual being, delights, IQ.
* Vol. I., Book I., Chap. V., p. 33.
144 OF NATIONAL EDUCATION.
lect the reasons that have convinced him, to repeat them to others,
that they may produce conviction in them, and stand more dis-
tinct and explicit in his own mind ; and he adds to this a willing-
ness to examine objections, because he takes no pride in consistent
error. The man who is not capable of this salutary exercise to
what valuable purpose can he be employed ? Hence it appears,
that no vice can be more destructive, than that which teaches us
to regard any judgment as final, and not open to review. The
same principle that applies to individuals, applies to communities.
There is no proposition, at present apprehended to be true, so
valuable, as to justify the introduction of an establishment for the
purpose of inculcating it on mankind. Refer them to reading, to
conversation, to meditation ; but teach them neither creeds nor
catechisms, either moral or political.
Secondly, the idea of national education, is founded in an in-
attention to the nature of mind. Whatever each man does for
himself, is done well; whatever his neighbours or his country
undertake to do for him, is done ill. It is our wisdom to incite
men to act for themselves, not to retain them in a state of per-
petual pupillage. He that learns, because he desires to learn,
will listen to the instructions he receives, and apprehend their
meaning. He that teaches, because he desires to teach, will dis-
charge his occupation with enthusiasm and energy. But the
moment political institution undertakes to assign to every man
his place, the functions of all will be discharged with supineness
and indifference. Universities and expensive establishments
have long been remarked for formal dulness. Civil policy has
given me the power to appropriate my estate to certain theoreti-
cal purposes ; but it is an idle presumption to think I can entail
my views, as I can entail my fortune- Remove those obstacles,
which prevent men from seeing, and which restrain them from pur-
suing their real advantage ; but do not absurdly undertake to relieve
them from the activity which this pursuit requires. What I earn,
what I acquire only because I desire to acquire it, I estimate at its
true value ; but what is thrust upon me, may make me indolent,
but cannot make me respectable. It is an extreme folly to endeav-
our to secure to others, independently of exertion on their part,
the means of being happy. This whole proposition of a national
education, is founded upon a supposition which has been repeat-
edly refuted in this work, but which has recurred upon us in a
thousand forms, that unpatronised truth is inadequate to the pur-
pose of enlightening mankind.
Thirdly, the project of a national education ought uniformly
to be discouraged, on account of its obvious alliance with na-
tional government. This is an alliance of a more formidable
nature, than the old and much contested alliance of church and
state. Before we put so powerful a machine under the direction
of so ambiguous an agent, it behoves us to consider well what it
is that we do. Government will not fail to employ it, to strengthen
its hands, and perpetuate its institutions. If we could even sup-
OF NATIONAL EDUCATION. 145
pose the agents of government not to propose to themselves an
object, which will be apt to appear in their eyes, not merely
innocent, but meritorious ; the evil would not the less happen.
Their views as institutors of a system of education, will not fail to
be analogous to their views in their political capacity : the data
upon which their conduct as statesmen, is vindicated, will be the
data upon which their instructions are founded. It is not true
that our youth ought to be instructed to venerate the constitution,
however excellent; they should be led to venerate truth; and the
constitution only so far as it corresponds with their uninfluenced
deductions of truth. Had the scheme of a national education
been adopted when despotism was most triumphant, it is not to be
believed that it could have for ever stifled the voice of truth. But
it would have been the most formidable and profound contrivance
i'or that purpose, that imagination can suggest. Still, in the coun-
tries where liberty chiefly prevails, it is reasonably to be assumed
that there are important errors, and a national education has the
most direct tendency to perpetuate those errors, and to form all
minds upon one model.
It is not easy to say whether the remark, " that government
cannot justly punish offenders, unless it have previously informed
them what is virtue and what is offence," be entitled to a separate
answer. It is to be hoped that mankind will never have to learn
so important a lesson, through so incompetent a channel. Govern-
ment may reasonably and equitably presume, that men who live
in society, know that enormous crimes are injurious to the public
weal, without its being necessary to announce them as such, by
laws, to be proclaimed by heralds, or expounded by curates. It
has been alleged, that " mere reason may teach me not to strike
my neighbour ; but will never forbid my sending a sack of wool
from England, or printing the French constitution in Spain."
This objection leads to the true distinction upon the subject. All
real crimes, that can be supposed to be the fit objects of judicial
animadversion, are capable of being discerned without the teach-
ing of law. All supposed crimes, not capable of being so dis-
cerned, are truly and unalterably placed beyond the cognisance of
a sound criminal justice. It is true that my own understanding
would never have told me that the exportation of wool was a crime :
neither do I believe it is a crime, now that a law has been made
affirming it to be such. It is a feeble and contemptible palliation
of iniquitous punishments, to signify to mankind beforehand that
you intend to inflict them. Men of a lofty and generous spirit
would almost be tempted to exclaim; Destroy us if you please ;
but do not endeavour, by a national education, to destroy in our
understandings the discernment of justice and injustice. The idea
of such an education, or even perhaps of the necessity of a written
law, would never have occurred, if government and jurisprudence
had never attempted the arbitrary conversion of innocence into
guilt.
25. VOL. ir. L
14t5 OF PENSIONS AND SALARIES.
CHAP. IX.
OF PENSIONS AND SALARIES.
Reasons by which they are vindicated. Labour in its usual acceptation
and labour for the public compared. Immoral effects of the institu-
tion of salaries. Source from which they are derived. Unnecessary
for the subsistance of the public functionary for dignity. Salaries
of inferior officers may also be superseded. Taxation. Qualifica-
tions.
AN article which deserves the maturest consideration, and by
means of which political institution does not fail to produce the
most important influence upon opinion, is that of the mode of re-
warding public services. The mode, which has obtained in all
European countries, is that of pecuniary reward. He who is em-
ployed to act in behalf of the public, is recompenced with a salary.
He who retires from that employment, is recompensed with a
pension. The arguments in support of this system, are well
known. It has been remarked, " that indeed it may be credit-
able to individuals, to be willing to serve their country without a
reward ; but that it is a becoming pride on the part of the public,
to refuse to receive as an alms, that for which they are well able
to pay. If one man, animated by the most disinterested motives,
be permitted to serve the public upon these terms, another will
assume the exterior of disinterestedness, as a step towards the
gratification of a sinister ambition. If men be not openly and
directly paid for the services they perform, we may rest assured,
that they will pay themselves, by ways a thousand times more in-
jurious. He who devotes himself to the public, ought to devote
himself entire : he will therefore be injured in his personal for-
tune, and ought to be replaced. Add to this, that the sen-ants of
the public ought, by their appearance and mode of living, to com-
mand respect both from their countrymen, and from foreigners ;
and that this circumstance will require an expence, for which it
is the office of their country to provide."*
Before this argument can be sufficiently estimated, it will be
necessary for us to consider the analogy, between labour in its
most usual acceptation, and labour for the public service, what
are the points in which they resemble, and in which they differ.
If I cultivate a field, the produce of which is necessary for my
subsistence, this is an innocent and laudable action ; the first ob-
ject it proposes is my own emolument ; and it cannot be unrea-
sonable, that that object should be much in my contemplation,
while the labour is performing. If I cultivate a field, the produce
of which is not necessary to my subsistence, but which I propose
to give in barter for a garment, the case becomes different. The
* The substance of these arguments may be found ia Burke's Speech OQ
Economical l\eform.
OF PENSIONS AND SALARIES. 147
action here does not, properly speaking, begin in myself. Its im-
mediate object is to provide food for another ; and it seems to be,
in some degree, a perversion of intellect, that causes me to place
in an inferior point of view the inherent quality of the action, and
to do that which is, in the first instance, beneficent, from a par
tial retrospect to my own advantage. Still the perversion here, at
least to our habits of reflecting and judging, does not appear
violent. The action differs only in form from that which is direct.
I employ that labour in cultivating a field, which must otherwise
be employed in manufacturing a garment. The garment I pro-
pose to myself as the end of my labour. We are not apt to con-
ceive of this species of barter and trade, as greatly injurious to
our moral discernment.
But then this is an action, in the slightest degree, indirect. It
does not follow, because we are induced to do some actions, im-
mediately beneficial to others, from a selfish motive, that we can
admit of this, in all instances, with impunity. It does not follow,
because we are sometimes inclined to be selfish, that we must
never be generous. The love of our neighbour, is the great orna-
ment of a moral nature. The perception of truth is the most solid
improvement of an intellectual nature. He that sees nothing in.
the universe deserving of regard but himself, is a consummate
stranger to the dictates of general and impartial reason. He that
is not influenced in his conduct by the real and inherent nature
of things, is rational to no purpose. Admitting that it is venial
to do some actions, immediately beneficial to my neighbour, from
a partial retrospect to myself, surely there must be other actions
in which I ought to forget, or endeavour to forget myself. This
duty is most obligatory, in actions most extensive in their conse-
quences. If a thousand men are to be benefitted, I ought to
recollect that I am only an atom in the comparison, and to reason
accordingly.
These considerations may enable us to decide upon the article
of pensions and salaries. Surely it ought not to be the end of a
good political institution, to increase our selfishness, instead of
suffering it to dwindle and decay. If we pay an ample salary to
him who is employed in the public sen-ice, how are we sure that
he will not have more regard to the salary than to the public ? If
we pay a small salary, yet the very existence of such a payment,
will oblige men to compare the work performed, and the reward,
bestowed ; and all the consequence that will result, will be to
drive the best men from the service of their country, a service,
first degraded by being paid, and then paid with an ill-timed par-
simony. Whether the salary be large or small, if a salary exists,
many will desire the office for the sake of its appendage. Func-
tions the most extensive in their consequences, will be converted
into a trade. How humiliating will it be to the functionary him-
self, amidst the complication and subtlety of motives, to doubt
whether the salary were not one of his inducements to the accept-
ing the office ? If he stand acquitted to himself, it is however
L 2
148 01' PENSIONS AND SALARIES.
still to be regretted, that grounds should be afforded to his coun-
trymen, which tempt them to misrepresent his views.
Another consideration of great weight in this instance is, that
of the source from which salaries are derived : from the public
revenue, from taxes imposed upon the community. The nature
of taxation has perhaps seldom been sufficiently considered. By
some persons it has been supposed that the superfluities of the
community might be collected, and placed under the disposition
of the representative or executive power. But this is a gross
mistake. The superfluities of the rich are, for the most part,
inaccessible to taxation; the burthen falls, almost exclusively,
upon the laborious and the poor. All wealth, in a state of
civilised society, is the produce of human industry.* To be rich,
is merely to possess a patent, entitling one man to dispose of the
produce of another man's industry. Taxation therefore can no
otherwise fall upon the rich, but so far as it operates to diminish
their luxuries. But this it does in a very few instances, and in a
very small degree. Its genuine operation is to impose a new
portion of labour, upon those whom labour has already plunged
deep, in ignorance, degradation, and misery. The higher and
governing part of the community, are like the lion who hunted in
concert with the weaker beasts. The landed proprietor first
takes a very disproportionate share of the produce to himself;
the capitalist follows, and shows himself equally voracious. Both
these classes, in the form in which they now appear, might, under
a different mode of society, be dispensed with. Taxation comes
in next, and lays a new burthen, upon those who are bowed down
to the earth already. Who is there, allowed the choice of an
alternative, and possessing the spirit of a man, that would choose
to be thus fed, with the hard-earned morsel that, through the
medium of taxation, is wrested from the gripe of the peasant ?
Too much stress however is not to be laid upon this argument.
There is no profession, there is perhaps no mode of life com-
patible with liberal and intellectual pursuits, that does not include
in it a portion of iniquity. It is one of the evils of a corrupt
state of society, that it forces the most enlightened and the most
virtuous unwillingly to participate in its injustice. It would be
weakness, and not magnanimity, that should teach us to view
these things with a microscopical scrupulosity ; and to refuse to
be useful because no usefulness is pure. The most important
objection to emoluments flowing from a public revenue, is built
upon their tendency to corrupt the mind of the receiver, and the
views of the spectators.
Let us proceed to consider the extent of the difficulty that
would result from the abolition of salaries. The majority of per-
sons nominated to eminent employments, under any state of
mankind approaching >.o the present, will possess a personal
fortune adequate to their support. Those selected from a different
* Book VIII., Chap. II.
OF PENSIONS AND SALARIES. 149
class, will probably be selected for extraordinary talents, which
will naturally lead to extraordinary resources. It has been
deemed dishonourable to subsist upon private liberality ; but this
dishonour is produced only by the difficulty of reconciling this
mode of subsistence and intellectual independence. It is true
that the fortunes of individuals, like public salaries, are merely a
patent, empowering them to engross the produce of other men's
labour. But large private fortunes cannot cease to exist, till
a spirit of sobriety and reflection, hitherto unknown, has been
infused into the great mass of mankind. In the mean time
the possessors of them are bound to consider of the best mode of
disposing of their incomes for the public interest: and it would
perhaps be difficult to point out a better than that here alluded to.
By this method no new addition would be made to the burthens
of the laborious; and the distribution would perhaps produce
a better effect, than if it were made in douceurs and prizes to the
more ordinary classes of mankind. As to the receiver, he, by
the supposition, receives no more than his due ; and therefore
prejudice alone can represent him as degraded, or imbue him
with servility. This source of emolument is free from many
of the objections that have been urged against a public stipend.
I ought to receive your superfluity as my due, while I am
employed in affairs more important than that of earning a sub-
sistence ; but at the same time to receive it with a total in-
difference to personal advantage, taking only what I deem
necessary for the supply of my wants. He that listens to the
dictates of justice, and turns a deaf ear to the suggestions of
pride, will probably wish that the customs of his country should
cast him for support, on the virtue of individuals, rather than on
the public revenue. That virtue may be expected, in this, as in
all other instances, to increa'se, the more it is called into action.
" But what if he have a wife and children ?" Let many aid
him, if the aid of one be insufficient. Let him do in his lifetime,
what Eudamidas did at his decease, bequeath his daughter to be
subsisted by one friend, and his mother by another. This is the
only true taxation, which he, in whom civil policy has vested the
means, assesses on himself, not which he endeavours to discharge
upon the shoulders of the poor. It is a striking example of the
power of venal governments in generating prejudice, that this
scheme of serving the public functions without salaries, so common
among the ancient republicans, should, by liberal-minded men of
the present day, be deemed impracticable. Nor let us imagine,
that the safety of the community, will depend upon the services
of an individual. In the country in which individuals fit for the
public service are rare, the post of honour will probably be his,
not that fills an official situation, but that, from his closet,
endeavours to waken the sleeping virtues of mankind. In the
country where they arc frequent, it will not be difficult, by the
short duration of the employment, to compensate for the slender-
ness of the means of him that fills it.
150 OF PENSIONS AND SALARIES.
It is not easy to describe the advantages that must result from
this proceeding. The public functionary would, in every article
of his charge, recollect the motives of public spirit and benevo-
lence. He would hourly improve in the vigour and disinterested-
ness of his character. The habits created by a frugal fare and a
cheerful poverty, not hid as now in obscure retreats, but held
forth to public view, and honoured with public esteem, would
speedily pervade the community, and auspiciously prepare them
for still further improvements.
The objection, " that it is necessary for him who acts on the
part of the public to make a certain figure, and to live in a style
calculated to excite respect, is scarcely to be considered as
deserving a separate answer. The whole spirit of this inquiry is
in direct hostility to such an objection. If therefore it have not
"been answered already, it would be vain to attempt an answer in
this place. It is recorded of the burghers of the Netherlands
who conspired to throw off the Austrian yoke, that they came to
the place of consultation, each man with his knapsack of pro-
visions : who is there that feels inclined to despise this simplicity
and honourable poverty ? Who would not exclaim with the im-
perial minister when he viewed the spectacle, Men thus resolute
and austere, are neither to be despised nor subdued? The
abolition of salaries would doubtless render necessary the simpli-
fication and abridgment of public business. This would be a
"benefit, and not a disadvantage.
It will further be objected, that there are certain functionaries,
in the lower departments of government, such as clerks and tax-
gatherers, whose employment is perpetual, and whose subsistence
ought, for that reason to be made the result of their employment.
If this objection were admitted, its consequences would be of
subordinate importance. The office of a clerk or a tax-gatherer,
is considerably similar to those of mere barter and trade ; and
therefore to degrade it altogether to their level, would have little
resemblance, to the fixing such a degradation, upon offices that
demand the most elevated character. The annexation of a
stipend to such employments, if considered only as a matter of
temporary accommodation, might perhaps be endured.
But the exception, if admitted, ought to be admitted with great
caution. He that is employed in an affair of direct public
necessity, ought to be conscious, while he discharges it, of its
true character. We should never allow ourselves to undertake
an office of a public nature, without feeling ourselves animated
with a public zeal. We shall otherwise discharge our trust with
comparative coldness and neglect. Nor is this all. The aboli-
tion of salaries, would lead to the abolition of those offices to
which salaries are thought necessary. If we had neither foreign,
Avars nor domestic stipends, taxation would be almost unknown ;
and, if we had no taxes to collect, we should want no clerks to
keep an account of them. In the simple scheme of political
institution which reason dictates, we could scarcely have any
ON THE MODES OF DECIDING, ETC. 151
burthensome offices to discharge ; and, if we had any that were
so in their abstract nature, they might be rendered light by the
perpetual rotation of their holders.
If we have no salaries, for a still stronger reason we ought to
have no pecuniary qualifications, or, in other words, no regulation
requiring the possession of a certain property, as a condition to the
right of electing, or the capacity of being elected. It is an
uncommon strain of tyranny to call upon men to appoint for
themselves a delegate, and at the same time forbid them to appoint
exactly the man whom they may judge fittest for the office.
Qualification in both kinds is a most flagrant injustice. It
asserts the man to be of less value than his property. It fur-
nishes to the candidate a new stimulus to the accumulation of
wealth ; and this passion, when once set in motion, is not easily
allayed. It tells him, " Your intellectual and moral qualifications
may be of the highest order ; but you have not enough of the
means of luxuries and vice." To the non-elector it holds the
most detestable language. It says, " You are poor ; you are un-
fortunate ; the institutions of society oblige you to be the per-
petual witness of other men's superfluity : because you are sunk
this low, we will trample you yet lower ; you shall not even be
reckoned for a man, you shall be passed by, as one, of whom
society makes no account, and whose welfare and moral existence
she disdains to recollect."
CHAP. X.
OF THE MODES OF DECIDING A QUESTION ON THE PART OF THE COM-
MUNITY.
Decision bit lot, its origin -founded in moral imbecility or cowardice.
Decision by ballot inculcates timidity and hypocrisy. Decision
by vote, its recommendations.
WHAT has been here said upon the subject of qualifications,
naturally leads to a few observations upon the three principal
modes of determining public questions and elections, by sortition,
ballot, and vote.
The idea of sortition was first introduced by the dictates of
superstition. It was supposed that, when human reason piously
acknowledged its insufficiency, the Gods, pleased with so un-
feigned a homage, interfered to guide the decision. This imagi-
nation ia now exploded. Every man who pretends to philosophy,
will confess, that, wherever sortition is introduced, the decision
is exclusively guided by the laws of impulse and gravitation.
Strictly speaking, we know of no such thing as contingence*
152 ON THE MODES OF DECIDING A QUESTION
But, so far as relates to the exercise of apprehension and judg-
.inent on the particular question to be determined, all decision by
lot is the decision of contingence. The operations of impulse
and gravitation, either proceed from a blind and unconscious
principle ; or, if they be the offspring of a superintending mind,
it is mind executing general laws, not temporising with every
variation of human caprice.
All reference of public questions and elections to lot, includes
in it one of two evils, moral imbecility or cowardice. There is
no situation in which we can be placed, that has not its corres-
ponding duties. There is no alternative that can be offered to
our choice, that does not include in it a better and a w r orse. The
idea of sortition therefore springs, either from an effeminacy that
will not enquire, or a timidity that dares not pronounce its
decision.
The path of virtue is simple and direct. The first attributes of
a virtuous character, are a mind awake, and a quick and
observant eye. A man of right dispositions will enquire out the
lessons of duty. The man, on the contrary, who is spoiled by
stupidity or superstition, will wait till these lessons are brought
to him in a way that he cannot resist. A superficial survey will
perhaps lead him to class a multitude of human transactions,
among the things that are indifferent. But, if we be indei'atigably
benevolent, we shall, for the most part, find, even among things
ordinarily so denominated, a reason for preference. He may
well be concluded to have but a small share of moral principle,
who easily dispenses himself from seeking the occasion to exer-
cise it. Add to which, they are not trifles, but matters of serious
import, that it has been customary to commit to the decision of
lot.
But, supposing us to have a sentiment of preference, or a con-
sciousness that to attain such a perception is our duty, if we
afterwards desert it, this is the most contemptible cowardice.
Nothing can be more unworthy, than a propensity to take refuge
in indolence and neutrality, simply because we have not the
courage to encounter the consequences of ingenuousness and
sincerity.
Ballot is a mode of decision still more censurable than sortition.
It is scarcely possible to conceive a political institution, that
includes a more direct and explicit patronage of vice. It has
been said, "that ballot may in certain cases be necessary, to
enable a man of a feeble character, to act with ease and inde-
pendence, and to prevent bribery, corrupt influence and faction."
Hypocrisy is an ill remedy to apply to the cure of weakness.
A feeble and irresolute character might before be accidental ;
ballot is a contrivance to render it permanent, and to scatter its
seeds over a wider surface. The true remedy for a want of con-
stancy and public spirit, is to inspire firmness, not to inspire
timidity. Sound and just conceptions, if communicated to the
mind with perspicuity, may be expected to be a sufficient basis
ON THE FART OF THE COMMUNITY. 153
for virtue. To tell men that it is necessary they should form
their decision by ballot, is to tell them that it is necessary they
should be ashamed of their integrity.
If sortition taught us to desert our duty, ballot teaches us to
draw a veil of concealment over our performance of it. It points
out to us a method of acting unobserved. It incites us to make
a mystery of our sentiments. If it did this in the most trivial
article, it would not be easy to bring the mischief it would pro-
duce, within the limits of calculation. But it dictates this
conduct in our most important concerns. It calls upon us to
discharge our duty to the public, with the most virtuous con-
stancy ; but at the same time directs us to hide our discharge of
it. One of the most beneficial principles in the structure of the
material universe, will perhaps be found to be, its tendency to
prevent our withdrawing ourselves from the consequences of our
own actions. A political institution that should attempt to
counteract this principle, would be the only true impiety. How
can a man have the love of the public in his heart, without the
dictates of that love flowing to his lips ? When we direct men
to act with secrecy, we direct them to act with frigidity. Virtue
will always be an unusual spectacle among men, till they shall
have learned to be at all times ready, to avow their actions, and
assign the reasons upon which they are founded.
If then sortition and ballot be institutions pregnant with vice,
it follows, that all social decisions should be made by open vote ;
that, wherever we have a function to discharge, we should reflect
on the purpose for which it ought to be exercised ; and that,
whatever conduct we are persuaded to adopt, especially in affairs
of general concern, should, most certainly in matters of routine
and established practice, be adopted in the face of the world.
154 LIMITATIONS OF THE
BOOK VII.
OF CRIMES AND PUNISHMENTS.
CHAP. I.
LIMITATIONS OF THE DOCTRINE OF PUNISHMENT WHICH RESULT
FROM THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY.
Definition of punishment. Nature of crime. Retributive justice not
independent and absolute not to be vindicated from the system of
nature. Force of the term, desert. Conclusion.
THE subject of punishment is perhaps the most fundamental in
the science of politics. Men associated for the sake of mutual
protection and benefit. It has already appeared, that the inter-
nal affairs of such associations are of an inexpressibly higher
importance than their external. * It has appeared that the action
of society, in conferring rewards, and superintending opinion, is
of pernicious effect.f Hence it follows that government, or the
action of society in its corporate capacity, can scarcely be of any
utility, except so far as it is requisite for the suppression of force
by force ; for the prevention of the hostile attack of one member
of the society, upon the person or property of another, which
prevention is usually called by the name of criminal justice, or
punishment.
Before we can properly judge of the necessity or urgency of
this action of government, it will be of some importance to con-
sider the precise import of the word punishment. I may employ
force, to counteract the hostility that is actually committing on
me. I may employ force, to compel any member of the society
to occupy the post that I conceive most conducive to the general
advantage, either in the mode of impressing soldiers and sailors,
or by obliging a military officer, or a minister of state, to accept,
or retain his appointment. I may put a valuable man to death
for the common good, either because he is infected with a pesti-
lential disease, or because some oracle has declared it essential
to the public safety. None of these, though they consist in the
exertion of force for some moral purpose, comes within the
import of the word punishment. Punishment is also often used
to signify, the voluntary infliction of evil upon a vicious being,
Jiot merely because the public advantage demands it, but because
* Book V., Chap. XX.
t Book V., Chap. XII. ; Book VI., throughout.
DOCTRINE OF PUNISHMENT. 155
there is apprehended to be a certain fitness and propriety in the
nature of things, that render suffering, abstractedly from the
benefit to result, the suitable concomitant of vice.
The justice of punishment however, in this import of the word,
can only be a deduction from the hypothesis of free-will, if
indeed that hypothesis will sufficiently support it ; and must be
false, if human actions are necessary. Mind, as was sufficiently
apparent when we treated of that subject,* is an agent, in no
other sense than matter is an agent. It operates and is operated
upon, and the nature, the force and line of direction of the first,
is exactly in proportion to the nature, force and line of direction
of the second Morality, in a rational and designing mind, is
not essentially different from morality in an inanimate substance.
A man of certain intellectual habits, is fitted to be an assassin ;
a dagger of a certain form, is fitted to be his instrument. The
one or the other excites a greater degree of disapprobation, in
proportion as its fitness for mischievous purposes appears to be
more inherent and direct. I view a dagger, on this account,
with more disapprobation, than a knife, which is perhaps equally
adapted for the purposes of the assassin ; because the dagger has
few or no beneficial uses to weigh against those that are hurtful,
and because it has a tendency by means of association to the
exciting of evil thoughts. I view the assassin with more disap-
probation than the dagger, because he is more to be feared, and
it is more difficult to change his vicious structure, or to take from
him his capacity to injure. The man is propelled to act by
necessary causes and irresistible motives, which, having once
occurred, are likely to occur again. The dagger has no quality
adapted to the contraction of habits, and, though it have com-
mitted a thousand murders, is not more likely (unless so far as
those murders, being known, may operate as a slight associated
motive with the possessor) to commit murder again. Except in
the articles here specified, the two cases are exactly parallel.
The assassin cannot help the murder he commits, any more than
the dagger.
These arguments are merely calculated to set in a more per-
spicuous light a principle, which is admitted by many by whom,
the doctrine of necessity has never been examined ; that the only
measure of equity is utility, and whatever is not attended with
any beneficial purpose, is not just. This is so evident, that few
reasonable and reflecting minds will be found inclined to deny it.
Why do I inflict suffering on another ? If neither for his own
benefit nor the benefit of others, can I be right ? Will resent-
ment, the mere indignation and horror I have conceived against
vice justify me in putting a being to useless torture ? " But
suppose I only put an end to his existence." What, with no
prospect of benefit either to himself or others ? The reason the
mind more easily reconciles itself to this supposition is, that we
* Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. VIII.
156 LIMITATIONS, ETC.
conceive existence to be less a blessing, tlian a curse, to a being
incorrigibly vicious. But, in that case, the supposition does not
fall within the terms of the question : I am in reality conferring a
benefit. It has been asked, "If we conceive to ourselves two
beings, each of them solitary, but the first virtuous, and the
second vicious, the first inclined to the highest acts of benevo-
lence, if his situation were changed for the social, the second to
malignity, tyranny and injustice, do we not feel that the first is
entitled to felicity in preference to the second ?" If there be any
difficulty in the question, it is wholly caused by the extravagance
of the supposition. No being can be either virtuous, or vicious,
who has no opportunity of influencing the happiness of others.
He may indeed, though now solitary, recollect or imagine a
social state ; but this sentiment, and the propensities it generates,
can scarcely be vigorous, unless he have hopes of being, at some
future time, restored to that state. The true solitaire cannot be
considered as a moral being, unless the morality we contemplate
be that which has relation to his own permanent advantage.
But, if that be our meaning, punishment, unless for reform, is
peculiarly absurd. His conduct is vicious, because it has a ten-
dency to render him miserable : shall we inflict calamity upon
him, for this reason only, because he has already inflicted cala-
mity upon himself ? It is difficult for us to imagine to ourselves
a solitary intellectual being, whom no future accident shall ever
render social. It is difficult for us to separate, even in idea,
virtue and vice from happiness and misery ; and, of consequence,
not to imagine that, when we bestow a benefit upon virtue, we
bestow it where it will turn to account ; arid when we bestow a
benefit upon vice, we bestow it where it will be unproductive.
For these reasons, the question of desert, as it relates to a solitary
being, will always have a tendency to mislead and perplex.
It has sometimes been alleged, that the course of nature has
annexed suffering to vice, and has thus led us to the idea of
punishment here referred to. Arguments of this sort should be
listened to with great caution. It was by reasonings of a similar
nature, that our ancestors justified the practice of religious per-
secution : " Heretics and unbelievers are the objects of God's
indignation ; it must therefore be meritorious in us to mal-treat
those whom God has cursed." We know too little of the
system of the universe, are too liable to error respecting it, and
see too small a portion, to entitle us to form our moral princi-
ples upon an imitation of what we conceive to be the course of
nature.
Thus it appears, whether we enter philosophically into the
principle of human actions, or merely analyse the ideas of recti-
tude and justice which have the universal consent of mankind,
that, in the refined and absolute sense in which that term has
frequently been employed, there is no such thing as desert ; in,
other words, that it cannot be just that we should inflict suffering
on any man, except so far as it tends to good. Hence it follows,
GENERAL DISADVANTAGES OP PUNISHMENT. 157
also, that punishment, in the last of the senses enumerated towards
the beginning of this chapter, by no means accords with any
sound principles of reasoning. It is right that I should inflict
suffering, in every case where it can be clearly shown that such
infliction will produce an overbalance of good. But this inflic-
tion bears no reference to the mere innocence or guilt of the
person upon whom it is made. An innocent man is the proper
subject of it, if it tend to good. A guilty man is the proper
subject of it under no other point of view. To punish him, upon
any hypothesis, for what is past and irrecoverable, and for the
consideration of that only, must be ranked among the most per-
nicious exhibitions of an untutored barbarism. Every man upon
whom discipline is employed, is to be considered as to the pur-
pose of this discipline as innocent. The only sense of the word
punishment, that can be supposed to be compatible with the
principles of the present work, is that of pain inflicted on a person
convicted of past injurious action, for the purpose of preventing
future mischief.
It is of the utmost importance that we should bear these ideas
constantly in mind, during our examination of the theory of
punishment. This theory would, in the past transactions of
mankind, have been totally different, if they had divested them-
selves of the emotions of anger and resentment*; if they had
considered the man who torments another for what he has done,
as upon a par with the child who beats the table ; if they had
conjured up to their imagination, and properly estimated, the
man, who should shut up in prison and periodically torture some
atrocious criminal, from the mere consideration of the abstract
congruity of crime and punishment, without a possible benefit
to others or to himself ; if they had regarded punishment, as that
which was to be regulated solely, by a dispassionate calculation
of the future, without suffering the past, on its own account, for a
moment to enter into the proceeding.
CHAP. II.
GENERAL DISADVANTAGES OF PUNISHMENT.
Conscience in matters of religion considered in the conduct of life.
Best practical criterion of duty not the decision of other men, but of
our own understanding. Tendency of coercion. Its various classes
considered,
HAVING thus endeavoured to show what denominations of punish-
ment justice, and a sound idea of the nature of man, would inva-
riably proscribe, it belongs to us, in the further prosecution of the
subject, to consider merely that coercion, which it has been sup-
158 GENERAL DISADVANTAGES OF PUNISHMENT.
posed right to employ, against persons convicted of past injurious
action, for the purpose of preventing future mischief. And here
we will, first, recollect what is the quantity of evil which accrues
from all such coercion; and secondly examine the cogency of the
various reasons by which it is recommended. It will not be pos-
sible wholly to avoid the repetition of some of the reasons which
occurred in the preliminary discussion of the exercise of private
judgment.* But those reasonings will now be extended, and will
perhaps derive additional advantage from a fuller arrangement.
It is commonly said, " that no man ought to be compelled, in
matters of religion, to act contrary to the dictates of his con-
science. Religion is a principle which the practice of all ages
has deeply impressed upon the human mind. He that discharges
what his apprehensions prescribe to him on the subject, stands
approved to the tribunal of his own mind, and, conscious of rec-
titude in his intercourse with the author of nature, cannot fail to
obtain the greatest of those advantages, whatever may be their
amount, which religion has to bestow. It is in vain that I endea-
vour, by persecuting statutes, to compel him to resign a false
religion for a true. Arguments may convince, but persecution
cannot. The new religion, which I oblige him to profess con-
trary to his conviction, however pure and holy it may be in its own
nature, has no benefits in store for him. The sublimest worship
becomes transformed into a source of depravity, when it is not
consecrated by the testimony of a pure conscience. Truth is the
second object in this respect, integrity of heart is the first: or
rather a proposition that, in its abstract nature, is truth itself,
converts into rank falsehood and moral poison, if it be professed
with the lips only, and abjured by the understanding. It is then
the foul garb of hypocrisy. Instead of elevating the mind above
sordid temptations, it perpetually reminds the worshipper of the
degrading subjection to which he has yielded. Instead of filling
him with sacred confidence, it overwhelms him with confusion
and remorse."
The inference that has been made from these reasonings is, " that
criminal Law is eminently misapplied in affairs of religion, and that
its true province is civil misdemeanours." But this distinction
is by no means so satisfactory and well founded as at first sight
it may appear.f Is it not strange that men should have affirmed
religion to be the sacred province of conscience, while moral duty
is to be left undefined to the decision of the magistrate ? Is it of
no consequence whether I be the benefactor of my species, or
their bitterest enemy ? whether I be an informer, or a robber, or
a murderer ? whether I be employed, as a soldier, to extirpate
my fellow beings, or, as a citizen, contribute my property to their
extirpation ? whether I declare the truth, with that firmness and
unreserve -which an ardent philanthropy will not fail to inspire,
or suppress science, lest I be convicted of blasphemy, and fact,
Vol. I., Book II., Chap. VI. * Ibid.
GENERAL DISADVANTAGES OF PUNISHMENT. 159
lest I be convicted of a libel ? whether I contribute my efforts for
the furtherance of political improvement, or quietly submit to
the exile of a prince of whose claims I am an advocate, or to the
subversion of liberty, the most valuable of all human possessions ?
Nothing can be more clear, than that the value of religion, or of
any other species of opinion, lies in its moral tendency. If I am
to hold as of no account the civil power, for the sake of that, which
is the means, how much more when it rises in contradiction to
the end ?
Of all human concerns morality is the most interesting. It is
the constant associate of all our transactions ; there is no situation
in which we can be placed, no alternative that can be presented
to our choice, respecting which duty is silent. " What is the
standard of morality and duty ?" Justice. Not the arbitrary de-
crees that are in force in a particular climate ; but those laws of
reason that are equally obligatory wherever man is to be found.
There is an obvious distinction, between those particulars in each
instance which constitute the permanent nature of the case before
us, and those interpositions of a peremptory authority, to which it
may be prudent to submit, but which cannot alter our ideas of
the conduct to which independent man ought to adhere. What
then are the consequences that will result from the obedience of
compulsion, and not of the understanding ?
No principle of moral science can be more obvious and funda-
mental, than that the motive by which we are induced to an action,
constitutes an essential part of its character. This idea has per-
haps sometimes been carried too far. A good motive is of little
value, when it is not joined to a salutary exertion. But, without a
good motive, the most extensively useful action that ever was per-
formed, can contribute little to the improvement or honour of him
that performs it. We owe him no respect, if he has been induced
to perform it by ideas of personal advantage, or the influence of a
bribe. It is, in some respects, worse if the motive that governed
him were the sentiment of fear. If we hold in any estimation
the attributes of man, if we desire the improvement of our species,
we ought particularly to desire that they should be led in the
path of usefulness by generous and liberal considerations, that
their obedience should be the obedience of the heart, and not that
of a slave.
Nothing can be of higher importance to the improvement of the
human mind, than that, whatever be the conduct we may be
compelled to pursue, we should have distinct and accurate notions
of the merits of every moral question in which we may be con-
cerned. In all doubtful questions, there are but two criterions
possible, the decisions of other men's wisdom, and the decisions
of our own understanding. Which of these is conformable to the
nature of man ? Can we surrender our own understanding ?
160 GENERAL DISADVANTAGES OF PUNISHMEKT.
the votaries of superstition, a perpetual dissatisfaction, a desire to
"believe -what is dictated to them, accompanied with a want of
that in which belief consists, evidence and conviction ? If we
could surrender our understanding, what sort of beings should we
become ?
The direct tendency of coercion is to set our understanding and
our fears, our duty and our weakness, at variance with each other.
Coercion first annihilates the understanding of the subject upon
whom it is exercised, and then of him who employs it. Dressed
in the supine prerogatives of a master, he is excused from culti-
vating the faculties of a man. What would not man have been,
long before this, if the proudest of us had no hopes but in argu-
ment, if he knew of no resort beyond, if he were obliged to
sharpen his faculties, and collect his powers, as the only means of
effecting his purposes ?
Let us reflect a little upon the species of influence, that coer-
cion employs. It avers to its victim that he must necessarily be
in the wrong, because I am more vigorous or more cunning than
he. Will vigour and cunning be always on the side of truth ?
It appeals to force, and represents superior strength as the stand-
ard of justice. Every such exertion implies in its nature
a species of contest. The contest is often decided before it is
brought to open trial, by the despair of one of the parties. The
ardour and paroxysm of passion being over, the offender surrenders
himself into the hands of his superiors, and calmly awaits the
declaration of their pleasure. But it is not always so. The de-
predator that by main force surmounts the strength of his pur-
suers, or by stratagem and ingenuity escapes their toils, so far as
this argument is valid, proves the justice of his cause. Who can
refrain from indignation, when he sees justice thus miserably
prostituted ? Who does not feel, the moment the contest begins,
the full extent of the absurdity that the appeal includes ? The ma-
gistracy, the representatives of the social system, that declares war
against one of its members, in behalf of justice, or in behalf of
oppression, appears almost equally, in both cases, entitled to our
censure. In the first case, we see truth throwing aside her native
arms and her intrinsic advantage, and putting herself upon a level
with falsehood. In the second, we see falsehood confident in the
casual advantage she possesses, artfully extinguishing the new-
born light that would shame her in the midst of her usurped
authority. The exhibition in both, is that of an infant crushed
in the merciless grasp of a giant.
No sophistry can be more gross, than that which pretends to
bring the parties to an impartial hearing. Observe the consis-
tency of this reasoning! We first vindicate political coercion,
because the criminal has committed an offence against the com-
munity at large, and then pretend, while we bring him to the
bar of the community, the offended party, that we bring him
before an impartial umpire. Thus in England, the king by his
attorney is the prosecutor, and the king by his representative is
OF THE PURPOSES OF PUNISHMENT. 161
the judge. How long shall such inconsistencies impose on man-
kind ? The pursuit commenced against the supposed offender, is
the %)osse comitatus, the armed force of the whole, drawn out in
such portions as may be judged necessary ; and, when seven mil-
lions of men have got one poor, unassisted individual in their
power, they are then at leisure to torture or to kill him, and to
make his agonies a spectacle to glut their ferocity.
The argument against political coercion is equally strong,
against the infliction of private penalties, between muster and
slave, and between parent and child. There was, in reality, not
only more of gallantry, but more of reason in the Gothic system
of trial by duel, than in these. The trial of force is over in these,
as we have already said, before the exertion of force has begun.
All that remains, is the leisurely infliction of torture, my power
to inflict it being placed in my joints and my sinews. This
whole argument seems liable to an irresistible dilemma. The
right of the parent over his offspring, lies either in his superior
strength, or his superior reason. If in his strength, we have only
to apply this right. universally, in order to drive all morality out
of the world. If in his reason, in that reason let him. confide.
It is a poor argument of my superior reason, that I am unable to
make justice be apprehended and felt, in the most necessary
cases, without the intervention of blows.
Let us consider the effect that coercion produces upon the
mind of him against whom it is employed. It cannot begin with
convincing; it is no argument. It begins with producing the
sensation of pain, and the sentiment of distaste. It begins with
violently alienating the mind from the truth with which we wish
it to be impressed. It includes in it a tacit confession of imbe-
cility. If he who employs coercion against me could mould me
to his purposes by argument, no doubt he would. He pretends
to punish me because his argument is strong; but he really
punishes *me because his argument is weak.
CHAP. III.
OF THE PURPOSES OF PUNISHMENT.
Nature of defence considered. Punishment for restraint for refor-
mation. Supposed uses of adversity defective unnecessary.
Punishment for example I, nugatory.?, unjust. Unfeeling~cha-
racier of this species of coercion.
LET us proceed to consider the three principal ends that punish-
ment proposes to itself, restraint, reformation, and example.
Under each of these heads the arguments on the affirmative side
26. VOL. n. M
162 OF THE PURPOSES OF PUNISHMENT.
must be allowed to be cogent, not irresistible. Under each of
them considerations will occur, that will oblige us to doubt
universally of the propriety of punishment.
The first and most innocent of all the classes of coercion, is
that which is employed in repelling actual force. This has but
little to do with any species of political institution, but may never-
theless deserve to be first considered. In this case I am employed
(suppose, for example, a drawn sword is pointed at my own
breast or that of another, with threats of instant destruction) in
preventing a mischief that seems about inevitably to ensue. In
this case there appears to be no time for experiments. And yet,
even here, a strict research will suggest to us important doubts.
The powers of reason and truth are yet unfathomed. That truth
which one man cannot comnmnicate in less than a year, another
can communicate in a fortnight. The shortest term may have an
understanding commensurate to it. When Marius said, with a
stern look, and a commanding countenance, to the soldier, that
was sent down into his dungeon to assassinate him, " Wretch,
have you the temerity to kill Marius !" and with these few words
drove him to flight; it was, that the grandeur of the idea con-
ceived in his own mind, made its way with irresistible force to the
mind of his executioner. He had no arms for resistance; he had
no vengeance to threaten ; he was debilitated and deserted ; it
was by the force of sentiment only, that he disarmed his destroyer.
If there were falsehood and prejudice mixed with the idea com-
municated, in this case, can we believe that truth is not still more
powerful ? It would be well for the human species, if they were
all, in this respect, like Marius, all accustomed to place an in-
trepid confidence in the single energy of intellect. Who shall
say what there is that would be impossible to men thus bold, and
actuated only by the purest sentiments ? Who shall say how far
the whole species might be improved, did they cease to respect
force in others, and did they refuse to employ it for themselves.
The difference however, between this species of coercion, and
the species which usually bears the denomination of punishment,
is obvious. Punishment is employed against an individual whose
violence is over. He is, at present, engaged in no hostility,
against the community, or any of its members. He is quietly
pursuing, it may be, those occupations which are beneficial to
himself, and injurious to none. Upon what pretence is this man
to be the subject of violence ?
For restraint. Restraint from what ? " From some future in-
jury which it is to be feared he will commit." This is the very
argument which has been employed to justify the most execrable
tyrannies. By what reasonings have the inquisition, the employ-
ment of spies, and the various kinds of public censure directed
against opinion, been vindicated ? By recollecting that there is
an intimate connection between men's opinions and their con-
duct; that immoral sentiments lead, by a very probable conse-
quence, to immoral actions. There is not more reason, in many
OP THE PURPOSES OF PUNISHMENT. 163
cases at least, to apprehend that the man who has once committed
robbery, will commit it again, than the man who has dissipated
his property at the gaming-table, or who is accustomed to profess
that, upon any emergency, he will not scruple to have recourse to
this expedient. Nothing can be more obvious than that, what-
ever precautions may be allowable with respect to the future, jus-
tice will reluctantly class among these precautions a violence to
be committed on my neighbour. Nor is it oftener unjust, than
it is superfluous. Why not arm myself with vigilance and
energy, instead of locking up every man whom my imagination
may bid me fear, that I may spend my days in undisturbed in-
activity ? If communities, instead of aspiring, as they have
hitherto done, to embrace a vast territory, and glut their vanity
with ideas of empire, were contented with a small district, with a
proviso of confederation in cases of necessity, every individual
would then live under the public eye ; and the disapprobation of
his neighbours, a species of coercion, not derived from the caprice
of men, but from the system of the universe, would inevitably
oblige him, either to reform, or to emigrate. The sum of the
argument under this head is, that all punishment for the sake of
restraint, is punishment upon suspicion, a species of punishment,
the most abhorrent to mi-son, and arbitrary in its application, that
can be devised.
The second object which punishment may be imagined to pro.
pose to itself, is reformation. We have already seen various
objections that may be offered to it in this point of view. Coer-
cion cannot convince, cannot conciliate, but on the contrary
alienates the mind of him against whom it is employed. Coer-
cion has nothing in common with reason, and therefore can have
no proper tendency to the cultivation of virtue. It is true that
reason is nothing more than a collation and comparison of various
emotions and feelings ; but they must be the feelings originally
appropriate to the question, not those which an arbitrary will,
stimulated by the possession of power, may annex to it. Reason
is omnipotent : if my conduct be wrong, a very simple statement,
flowing from a clear and comprehensive view, will make it appear
to be such ; nor is it probable that there is any perverseness that
would persist in vice, in the face of all the recommendations with
which virtue might be invested, and all the beauty in which it
might be displayed.
But to this it may be answered, " that this view of the subject
may indeed be abstractedly true, but that it is not true relative to
the present imperfection of human faculties. The grand requisite
for the reformation and improvement of the human species, seems
to consist in the rousing of the mind. It is for this reason that
the school of adversity, has so often been considered as the school
of virtue.* In an even course of easy and prosperous circum-
stances, the faculties sleep. But, when great and urgent occasion
* Book V., Chap. II., p. 4.
M2
164 OF THE PURPOSES OF PUNISHMEKT.
is presented, it should seem that the mind rises to the level of the
occasion. Difficulties awaken vigour, and engender strength;
and it will frequently happen that, the more you check and
oppress me, the more will my faculties swell, till they burst all
the obstacles of oppression."
The opinion of the excellence of adversity, is built upon a
very obvious mistake. If we will divest ourselves of paradox
and singularity, we shall perceive that adversity is a bad thing,
but that there is something else that is worse. Mind can neither
exist, nor be improved, without the reception of ideas. It will
improve more in a calamitous, than a torpid state. A man will
sometimes be found wiser at the end of his career, who has been
treated with severity, than with neglect. But, because severity
is one way of generating thought, it does not follow that it is the
best.
It has already been shown that coercion, absolutely considered,
is injustice. Can injustice be the best mode of disseminating
principles of equity and reason ? Oppression, exercised to a cer-
tain extent, is the most ruinous of all things. What is it but
this, that has habituated mankind to so much ignorance and vice
for so many thousand years ? Is it probable, that that which has
been thus terrible in its consequences, should, under any variation
of circumstances, be made a source of eminent good ? All coer-
cion sours the mind. He that suffers it, is practically persuaded
of the want of a philanthropy sufficiently enlarged, in those with
whom he has intercourse. He feels that justice prevails only with
great limitations, and that he cannot depend upon being treated
with justice. The lesson which coercion reads to him is, " Sub-
mit to force, and abjure reason. Be not directed by the convic-
tions of your understanding, but by the basest part of your
nature, the fear of personal pain, and a compulsory awe of the
injustice of others." It was thus Elizabeth of England and
Frederic of Prussia were educated in the school of adversity.
The way in which they profited by this discipline, was by finding
resources in their own minds, enabling them to regard, with an
unconquered spirit, the violence employed against them. Can
this be the best mode of forming men to virtue ? If it be, per-
haps it is further requisite, that the coercion we use should be
flagrantly unjust, since the improvement seems to lie, not in sub-
mission, but resistance.
L But it is certain that truth is adequate to excite the mind,
without the aid of adversity. By truth is here understood a just
view of all the attractions of industry, knowledge, and benevo-
lence. If I apprehend the value of any pursuit, shall I not engage
in it ? If I apprehend it clearly, shall I not engage in it zealously ?
If you would awaken my mind in the most effectual manner,
speak to the genuine and honourable feelings of my nature. For
that purpose, thoroughly understand yourself that which you
would recommend to me, impregnate your mind with its evidence,
and speak from the clearness of your view, and the fulness of
OP THE PURPOSES OP PUNISHMENT. 165
conviction. Were we accustomed to an education, in which truth
was never neglected from indolence, or told in a way treacherous
to its excellence, in which the preceptor subjected himself to the
perpetual discipline of finding the way to communicate it with
brevity and force, but without prejudice and acrimony, it cannot
be believed, but that such an education would be more effectual
for the improvement of the mind, than all the modes of angry or
benevolent coercion that ever were devised.
The last object which punishment proposes, is example. Had
legislators confined their views to reformation and restraint, their
exertions of power, though mistaken, would still have borne the
stamp of humanity. But, the moment vengeance presented itself
as a stimulus on the one side, or the exhibition of a terrible ex-
ample on the other, no barbarity was thought too great. Ingenious
cruelty was busied to find new means of torturing the victim, or
of rendering the spectacle impressive and horrible.
It has long since been observed, that this system of policy con-
stantly fails of its purpose. Further refinements in barbarity,
produce a certain impression, so long as they are new ; but this
impression soon vanishes, and the whole scope of a gloomy in-
vention is exhausted in vain*. The reason of this phenomenon,
is that, whatever may be the force with which novelty strikes the
imagination, the inherent nature of the situation speedily recurs,
and asserts its indestructible empire. We feel the emergencies
to which we are exposed, and we feel, or think we feel, the dic-
tates of reason inciting us to their relief. Whatever ideas we
form in opposition to the mandates of law, we draw, with sincerity,
though it may be with some mixture of mistake, from the essen-
tial conditions of our existence. We compare them with the
despotism which society exercises in its corporate capacity ; and,
the more frequent is our comparison, the greater are our murmurs
and indignation against the injustice to which we are exposed.
But indignation is not a sentiment that conciliates ; barbarity pos-
sesses none of the attributes of persuasion. It may terrify ; but
it cannot produce in us candour and docility. Thus ulcerated
with injustice, our distresses, our temptations, and all the
eloquence of feeling present themselves again and again. Is it
any wonder they should prove victorious ?
Punishment for example, is liable to all the objections which
are urged against punishment for restraint or reformation, and to
certain other objections peculiar to itself. It is employed against
a person not now in the commission of offence, and of whom we
can only suspect that he ever will offend. It supersedes argu-
ment, reason, and conviction, and requires us to think such a spe-
cies of conduct our duty, because such is the good pleasure of
our superiors, and because, as we are taught by the example in
question, they will make us rue our stubbornness if we think
otherwise. In addition to this it is to be remembered that, when
* Beccaria, Dei DelHti e delle Penc.
166 OF THE APPLICATION OP PUNISHMENT.
I am made to suffer as an example to others, I am myself treated
with supercilious neglect, as if I were totally incapable of feeling
and morality. If you inflict pain upon me, you are cither just or
unjust. If you be just, it should seem necessary that there should
be something in me that makes me the fit subject of pain, either
absolute desert, which is absurd, or mischief I may be expected
to perpetrate, or lastly, a tendency in what you do, to produce
my reformation. If any of these be the reason why the suffering
I undergo is just, then example is out of the question; it may be-
an incidental consequence of the procedure, but it forms no part
of its principle. It must surely be a very inartificial and injudi-
cious scheme for guiding the sentiments of mankind, to fix upon
an individual as a subject of torture or death, respecting whom
this treatment has no direct fitness, merely that we may bid others
look on, and derive instruction from his misery. This argument-
will derive additional force from the reasoning of the following
chapter.
CHAP. IV.
OF THE APPLICATION OF PUNISHMENT.
Delinquency and punishment incommensurable. External action no
proper subject of criminal animadversion how far capable of proof.
Ijiiquity of this standard in a moral and in a political view. Pro-
priety of a retribution to be measured by the intention of the offender
considered. Such a project would overturn criminal law would
abolish punishment. Inscrutability, 1, of motives. Doubtfulness of
history. Declarations of sufferers. 2, of the future conduct of the
offender. Uncertainty of evidence either of the facts or the inten-
tion. Disadvantages of the defendant in a criminal suit.
A FURTHER consideration, calculated to show, not only the ab-
surdity of punishment for example, but the iniquity of punish-
ment in general, is, that delinquency and punishment are, in all
cases, incommensurable. No standard of delinquency ever L has
been, or ever can be, discovered. No two crimes were ever
alike ; and therefore the reducing them, explicitly or implicitly,
to general classes, which the very idea of example implies, is ab-
surd. Nor is it less absurd to attempt to proportion the degree
of suffering to the degree of delinquency, when the latter can
never be discovered. Let us endeavour to clear the truth of
these propositions.
Man, like every other machine the operations of which can be
OF THE APPLICATION OF PUNISHMENT. 167
made the object of our senses, may, in a certain sense, be affirmed
to consist of two parts, the external and the internal. The form,
which his actions assume is one thing ; the principle from which
they flow is another. With the former it is possible we should
be acquainted ; respecting the latter there is no species of
evidence that can adequately inform us. Shall we proportion the
degree of suffering to the former or the latter, to the injury sus-
tained by the community, or to the quantity of ill intention con-
ceived by the offender? Some philosophers, sensible of the
inscrutability of intention, have declared in favour of our attend-
ing to nothing but the injury sustained. The humane and bene-
volent Beccaria has treated this as a truth of the utmost import-
ance, " unfortunately neglected by the majority of political insti-
tutors, and preserved only in the dispassionate speculation of
philosophers."*
It is true that we may, in many instances, be tolerably informed
respecting external actions, and that there will, at first sight, ap-
pear to be no great difficulty in reducing them to general rules.
Murder, according to this system, suppose, will be the exertion
of any species of action affecting my neighbour, so as that the
consequences terminate in death. The difficulties of the magis-
trate are much abridged upon this principle, though they are by
no means annihilated. It is well known how many subtle dis-
quisitions, ludicrous or tragical according to the temper with
which we view them, have been introduced to determine in each
particular instance, whether the action were or were not the
real occasion of the death. It never can be demonstratively
ascertained.
But dismissing this difficulty, how complicated is the iniquity of
treating all instances alike, in which one man has occasioned the
death of another ? Shall we abolish the imperfect distinctions,
which the most odious tyrannies have hitherto thought themselves
compelled to admit, between chance-medley, manslaughter, and
malice prepense ? Shall we inflict on the man, who in endea-
vouring to save the life of a drowning fellow creature, oversets a
boat, and occasions the death of a second, the same suffering, as
on him who, from gloomy and vicious habits, is incited to the
murder of his benefactor ? In reality, the injury sustained by the
community, is, by no means, the same in these two cases ; the
injury sustained by the community, is to be measured by the
antisocial dispositions of the offender, and, if that were the right
view of the subject, by the encouragement afforded to similar dis-
positions from his impunity. But this leads us at once, from the
external action, to the unlimited consideration of the intention of
* " Questa e una di quelle palpabili rerita, die per una mararigliota
combinazione di circostanze non sono con decisa sicurezza conosciuti; c//e
da alcuni pochi pensatori uomini d' ogni naxivne, e d'ogni secolo"Dti
Deliiti c ddle Pene,
168 OF THE APPLICATION OF PUNISHMENT.
the actor. The iniquity of the written laws of society, is of pre-
cisely the same nature, though not of so atrocious a degree, in
the confusion they actually introduce between various intentions,
as if this confusion were unlimited. One man shall commit
murder, to remove a troublesome observer of hi.s depraved dis-
positions, who will otherwise counteract and expose him to the
world. A second, because he cannot bear the ingenuous sincerity
with which he is told of his vices. A third, from his intolerable
envy of superior merit. A fourth, because he knows that his
adversary meditates an act pregnant with extensive mischief, and
perceives no other mode by which its perpetration can be pre-
vented. A fifth, in defence of his father's life or his daughter's
chastity. Each of these men except perhaps the last, may act,
either from momentary impulse, or from any of the infinite shades
and degrees of deliberation. Would you award one individual
punishment to all these varieties of action ? Can a system that
levels these inequalities, and confounds these differences, be pro-
ductive of good ? That we may render men beneficent towards
each other, shall we subvert the very nature of right and wrong?
Or is not this system, from whatever pretences introduced, calcu-
lated in the most powerful manner, to produce general injury ?
Can there be a more flagrant injury, than to inscribe, as we do
in effect, upon our courts of judgment, " This is the Hall of
Justice, in which the principles of right and wrong are daily and
systematically slighted, and offences of a thousand different mag-
nitudes, are confounded together, by the insolent supineness of
the legislator, and the unfeeling selfishness of those who have
engrossed the produce of the general labour to their particular
emolument !"
But suppose, secondly, that we were to take the intention of
the offender, and the future injury to be apprehended, as the
standard of infliction. This would no doubt be a considerable
improvement. This would be the true mode of reconciling pun-
ishment and justice, if, for reasons already assigned, they were
not, in their own nature, incompatible. It is earnestly to be de-
sired that this mode of administering retribution should be serious-
ly attempted. It is to be hoped that men will one day attempt to-
establish an accurate criterion, and not go on for ever, as they
have hitherto done, with a sovereign contempt of equity and
reason. This attempt would lead, by a very obvious process, to
the abolition of all punishment.
It would immediately lead to the abolition of all criminal law.
An enlightened and reasonable judicature would have recourse,
in order to decide upon the cause before them, to no code but the
code of reason. They would feel the absurdity of other men's
teaching them what they should think, and pretending to under-
stand the case before it happened, better than they who had all
the circumstances under their inspection. They would feel the
absurdity of bringing every offence to be compared with a certain
OF THE APPLICATION OF PUNISHMENT. 1
number of measures previously invented, and compelling it to
agree with one of them. But we shall shortly have occasion to
return to this topic.*
The great advantage that would result from men's determining
to govern themselves, in the suffering to be inflicted, by the
motives of the offender, and the future injury to be apprehended,
would consist, in their being taught how vain and presumptuous
it is in them to attempt to wield the rod of retribution. Who is
it that, in his sober reason, will pretend to assign the motives
that influenced me in any article of my conduct, and upon them
to found a grave, perhaps a capital, penalty against me ? The
attempt would be iniquitous and absurd, even though the indi-
vidual who was to judge me, had made the longest observation of
my character, and been most intimately acquainted with the
series of my actions. How often does a man deceive him-
self in the motives of his conduct, and assign to one principle,
w r hat, in reality, proceeded from another ? Can we expect that a
mere spectator should form a judgment sufficiently correct, when
he who has all the sources of information in his hands, is never-
theless mistaken ? Is it not to this hour a dispute among philoso-
phers, whether I be capable of doing good to my neighbour for
his own sake ? " To ascertain the intention of a man, it is ne-
cessary, to be precisely informed, of the actual impression of the
objects upon his senses, and of the previous disposition of his
mind, both of which vary in different persons, and even in the
same person at different times, with a rapidity commensurate to
the succession of ideas, passions and circumstances. f Meanwhile
the individuals, whose office it is to judge of this inscrutable
mystery, are possessed of no previous knowledge, utter strangers
to the person accused, and collecting their only materials from the
information of two or three ignorant and prejudiced witnesses.
What a vast train of actual and possible motives enter into the
history of a man, who has been incited to destroy the life of an-
other ? Can you tell how much in these there was of apprehended
justice, and how much of inordinate selfishness ? how much of sud-
den passion, and how much of rooted depravity ? how much of
intolerable provocation, and how much of spontaneous wrong ? how
much of that sudden insanity, which hurries the mind into a certain
action, by a sort of incontinence of nature, almost without any as-
signable motive, and how much of incurable habits ? Consider
the uncertainty of history. Do we not still dispute whether Cicero
were more a vain or a virtuous man, whether the heroes of
ancient Rome were impelled by vain glory or disinterested bene-
* Chap. VIII.
r ~ t " Qucsta [I'inicnzionc] dipende dalla imprcssione attuale degli oggetti,
et dalla precedents disposizione delta mente: essevarianp in tutti gli uomini
e in ciatcum uomo colla rclocissima succcssione ddle idee, dclle jmssoni, e
delle circostanze." He adds, " Sarebbe dunquenecessarioformarcnon tolo un
codice particolare per ciascun cittadino, ma una nuoto legge ad. ogni"
delitto.Dei Dditti e delle fene.
170 OF THE APPLICATION OF PUNISHMENT.
volcnce, whether Voltaire were the stain of his species, or their
most generous and intrepid benefactor ? Upon these subjects
moderate men perpetually quote the impenetrableness of the
human heart. Will moderate men pretend, that we have not an
hundred times more evidence upon which to found our judgment
in these cases, than in that of the man who was tried last week
at the Old Bailey ? This part of the subject will be put in a
striking light, if we recollect the narratives that have been pub-
lished by condemned criminals. In how different a light do they
place the transactions that proved fatal to them, from the con-
struction that was put upon them by their judges ? And yet these
narratives were written under the most awful circumstances, and
many of them without the least hope of mitigating their fate, and
with marks of the deepest sincerity. Who will say that the judge,
with his slender pittance of information, was more competent to
decide upon the motives, than the prisoner after the severest
scrutiny of his own mind ? How few are the trials which an
humane and just man can read, terminating in a verdict of guilty,
without feeling an uncontrolable repugnance against the verdict ?
If there be any sight more humiliating than all others, it is that
of a miserable victim, acknowledging the justice of a sentence,
against which every enlightened spectator exclaims with horror.
But this is not all. The motive, when ascertained, is a subor-
dinate part of the question. The point, upon which only society
can equitably animadvert, if it had any jurisdiction in the case,
is a point, if possible, still more inscrutable than that of which
we have been treating. A legal inquisition into the minds of men,
considered by itself, all rational enquirers have agreed to condemn.
What we want to ascertain is, not the intention of the offender,
but the chance of his offending again. For this purpose we rea-
sonably enquire first into his intention. But, when we have
found this, our task is but begun. This is one of our materials,
to enable us to calculate the probability of his repeating his
offence, or being imitated by others. Was this an habitual state
of his mind, or was it a crisis in his history likely to remain an
unique ? What effect has experience produced on him ; or what
likelihood is there, that the uneasiness and suffering that attend
the perpetration of eminent wrong, may have worked a salutary
change in his mind ? Will he hereafter be placed in circum-
stances that shall impel him to the same enormity ? Precaution is
in its own nature, a step in a high degree precarious. Precaution
that consists in inflicting injury on another, will at all times be
odious to an eq'uitable mind. Meanwhile, be it observed, that all
which has been said upon the uncertainty of crime, tends to aggra-
vate the injustice of punishment for the sake of example. Since
the crime upon which I animadvert in one man, can never be the
same as the crime of another, it is as if I should award a grievous
penalty against persons with one eye, to prevent any man in
future from putting out his eyes by design.
One more argument, calculated to prove the absurdity of the
OF THE APPLICATION OF PUNISHMENT. 171
attempt to proportion delinquency and suffering to each other,
may be derived from the imperfection of evidence. The veracity
of witnesses will, to an impartial spectator, be a subject of con-
tinual doubt. Their competence, so far as relates to just obser-
vation and accuracy of understanding, will be still more doubtful.
Absolute impartiality it would be absurd to expect from them.
How much will every word and every action come distorted, by
the medium through which it is transmitted ? The guilt of a man,
to speak in the phraseology of law, may be proved either by
direct or circumstantial evidence. I am found near to the body
of a man newly murdered. I come out of his apartment, with a
bloody knife in my hand, or with blood upon my clothes. If,
under these circums: mces, and unexpectedly charged with mur-
der, I falter in my speech, or betray perturbation in my coxinte-
nance, this is an additional proof. Who docs not know, that
there is not a man in England, however blameless a life he may
lead, who is secure that he shall not end it at the gallows ? This
is one of the most obvious and universal blessings that civil
government has to bestow. In what is called direct evidence, it
is necessary to identify the person of the offender. How many
instances are there upon record, of persons condemned upon this
evidence, who, after their death, have been proved entirely inno-
cent ? Sir Walter Raleigh, when a prisoner in the Tower, heard
some high words accompanied with blows under his window.
He enquired of several eye-witnesses, who entered his apartment
in succession, into the natiire of the transaction. But the story
they told, varied in such material circumstances, that he could
form no just idea of what had been done. He applied this to
prove the uncertainty of history. The parallel would have been
more striking, if he had applied it to criminal pursuits.
But, supposing the external action, the first part of the question
to be ascertained, we have next to discover through the same
garbled and confused medium the intention. How few men
should I choose to intrust with the drawing up a narrative of
some delicate and interesting transaction of my life ? How few,
though, corporally speaking, they were witnesses of what was
done, would justly describe my motives, and properly report and
interpret my words ? Yet, in an affair, that involves my life, my
fame and future usefulness, I am obliged to trust to any vulgar
and casual observer.
A man properly confident in the force of truth, would consider
a public libel upon his character as a trivial misfortune. But a
criminal trial in a court of justice, is inexpressibly different.
Few men, thus circumstanced, can retain the necessary presence
of mind, and freedom from embarrassment. But if they do, it is
with a cold and unwilling ear that their tale is heard. If the
crime charged against them be atrocious, they are half condemned
in the passions of mankind, before their cause is brought to a trial.
All that is interesting to them, is decided amidst the first burst of
indignation ; and it is well, if their story be impartially estimated,
172 OF PUNISHMENT CONSIDERED
ten years after their body has mouldered in the grave. Why, if
a considerable time elapse between the trial and the execution,
do we find the severity of the public changed into compassion ?
For the same reason that a mas.er, if he do not beat his slave
in the moment of resentment, often feels a repugnance to the
beating him at all. Not so much, perhaps, as is commonly sup-
posed, from forgetfulness of the offence, as that the sentiments of
reason have time to recur, and he feels, in a confused and indefinite
manner, the injustice of punishment. Thus every consideration
tends to show, that a man tried for a crime, is a poor deserted
individual, with the whole force of the community conspiring his
ruin. The culprit that escapes, however conscious of innocence,
lifts up his hands with astonishment, and can scarcely believe his
senses, having such mighty odds against him. It is easy for a
man who desires to shake off an imputation under which he
labours, to talk of being put on his trial ; but no man ever
seriously wished for this ordeal, who knew what a trial was.
CHAP. V.
OF PUNISHMENT CONSIDERED AS A TEMPORARY EXPEDIENT.
Arguments in its favour. Answer. It cannot Jit men for a better order
of society. The true remedy to private injustice described is adapted
to immediate practice. Duty of the community in this respect.
Duty of individuals. Illustration from the case of war of indivi-
dual defence. Application. Disadvantages of anarchy want of
security of progressive enquiry. Correspondent disadvantages of
despotism. Anarchy awakens, despotism depresses the mind. Final
result of anarchy how determined. Supposed purposes of punish-
ment in a temporary view reformation example restraint. COH-
elusion.
THUS much for the general merits of punishment, considered as
an instrument to be applied in the government of men. It is
time that we should enquire into the apology which may be offer-
ed in its behalf, as a temporary expedient. No introduction
seemed more proper to this enquiry, than such a review of the
subject upon a comprehensive scale ; that the reader might be
inspired with a suitable repugnance against so pernicious a sys-
tem, and prepared firmly to resist its admission, in all cases,
where its necessity cannot be clearly demonstrated.
The arguments in favour of punishment as a temporary expe-
dient are obvious. It may be alleged that, " however suitable an
entire immunity in this respect may be to the nature of mind
absolutely considered, it is impracticable with regard to men a*
AS A TEMPORARY EXPEDIENT. 173
we now find tlicm. The human species is at present infected
with a thousand vices, the offspring of established injustice. They
are full of factitious appetites and perverse habits : headstrong in
evil, inveterate in selfishness, without sympathy and forbearance
for the welfare of others. In time they may become accommo-
dated to the lessons of reason ; but at present they would be
found deaf to her mandates, and eager to commit every species
of injustice."
One of the remarks that most irresistibly suggest themselves
upon this statement is, that punishment has no proper tendency
to prepare men for a state in which punishment shall cease. It
were idle to expect, that force should begin to do that, which it
is the office of truth to finish, should fit men, by severity and
violence, to enter with more favourable auspices into the schools
of reason.
But, to omit this gross misrepresentation in behalf of the
supposed utility of punishment, it is of importance, in the first
place, to observe, that there is a complete and unanswerable
remedy to those evils, the cure of which has hitherto been sought
in punishment, that is within the reach of every community,
whenever they shall be persuaded to adopt it. There is a state
of society, the outline of which has been already sketched,* that,
by the mere simplicity of its structure, would lead to the exter-
mination of offence ; a state, in which temptation would be almost
unknown, truth brought down to the level of all apprehensions,
and vice, sufficiently checked, by the general discountenance,
and sober condemnation of every spectator. Such are the con-
sequences that might be expected to spring from an abolition of
the craft and mystery of governing ; while, on the other hand,
the innumerable murders that are daily committed under the
sanction of legal forms, are solely to be ascribed to the pernicious
notion of an extensive territory ; to the dreams of glory, empire,
and national greatness, which have hitherto proved the bane of
the human species, without producing entire benefit and happi-
ness to a single individual.
Another observation which this consideration immediately
suggests, is, that it is not, as the objection supposed, by any
means necessary, that mankind should pass through a state of
purification, and be freed from the vicious propensities which ill
constituted governments have implanted, before they can be dis-
missed from the coercion to which they are at present subjected.
Their state would indeed be hopeless, if it were necessary that
the cure should be effected, before we were at liberty to discard
those practices to which the disease owes its most alarming
symptoms. But it is the characteristic of a well-formed society,
not only to maintain in its members those virtues with which
they are already imbued, but to extirpate their errors, and render
them benevolent and just to each other. It frees us from the
* Book V., Chap. XXII., p. 94.
174 OF PUNISHMENT CONSIDERED
influence of those phantoms which before misled us, shows us
our true advantage as consisting in independence and integrity,
and binds us, by the general consent of our fellow-citizens, to the
dictates of reason, more strongly than with fetters of iron. It
is not to the sound of intellectual health that the remedy so
urgently addresses itself, as to those who are infected with dis-
eases of the mind. The ill propensities of mankind no otherwise
tend to postpone the abolition of coercion, than as they prevent
them from perceiving the advantages of political simplicity. The
moment in which they can be persuaded to adopt any rational
plan for this abolition, is the moment in which the abolition
ought to be effected.
A further consequence that may be deduced from the princi-
ples that have here been delivered, is that a coercion to be em-
ployed upon its own members, can, in no case, be the duty of
the community. The community is always competent to change
its institutions, and thus to extirpate offence in a w-ay infinitely
more rational and just than that of punishment. If, in this sense,
punishment has been deemed necessary as a temporary expedient,
the opinion admits of satisfactory refutation. Punishment can at
no time, either permanently or provisionally, make part of any
political system that is built upon the principles of reason.
But, though, in this sense, punishment cannot be admitted,
for so much as a temporary expedient, there is another sense
in which it must be so admitted. Coercion, exercised in the
name of the state upon its respective members, cannot be the
duty of the community ; but coercion may be the duty of
individuals within the community. The duty of individuals,
in their political capacity, is, in the first place, to endeavour
to meliorate the state of society in which they exist, and to
be indefatigable in detecting its imperfections. But, in the
second place, it behoves them to recollect, that their efforts can-
not be expected to meet with instant success, that the progress of
knowledge has, in all cases, been gradual, and that their obliga-
tion to promote the welfare of society during the intermediate
period, is certainly not less real, than their obligation to promote
its future and permanent advantage. Even the future advantage
cannot be effectually procured, if we be inattentive to the present
security. But, as long as nations shall be so far mistaken, as to
endure a complex government, and an extensive territory, coer-
cion will be indispensibly necessary to general security. It is
therefore the duty of individuals, to take an active share upon
occasion, in so much coercion, and in such parts of the existing
system, as shall be sufficient to counteract the growth of universal
violence and tumult. It is unworthy of a rational enquirer to
say, " These things are necessary, but I am not obliged to take
my share in them." If they be necessary, they are necessary
for the general welfare ; of consequence, are virtuous, and what
no just man will refuse to perform.
L The duty of individuals is, in this respect, similar to the duty
AS A TEMPORARY EXPEDIENT. 175
of independent communities, upon the subject of war. It is
well known what has been the prevailing policy of princes under
this head. Princes, especially the most active and enterprising
among them, are seized with an inextinguishable rage for aug-
menting their dominions. The most innocent and inoffensive
conduct on the part of their neighbours, will not, at all times, be
a sufficient security against their ambition. They indeed seek
to disguise their violence under plausible pretences; but it is
well known that, where no such pretences occur, they are not,
on that account, disposed to relinquish the pursuit. Let us ima-
gine then a land of freemen invaded by one of these despots.
What conduct does it behove them to adopt ? We are not yet
wise enough, to make the sword drop out of the hands of our
oppressors, by the mere force of reason. Were we resolved, like
quakers, neither to oppose, nor, where it could be avoided, to
submit to them, much bloodshed might perhaps be prevented :
but a more lasting evil would result. They would fix garrisons
in our country, and torment us with perpetual injustice. Sup-
posing it were even granted, that, if the invaded nation should
demean itself with unalterable constancy, the invaders would
become tired of their fruitless usurpation, it would prove but
little. At present we have to do, not with nations of philosophers,
but with nations of men whose virtues are alloyed with weakness,
fluctuation, and inconstancy. At present it is our duty to con-
sult, respecting the procedure which, to such nations, may be
attended with the most favourable result. It is therefore proper,
that we should choose the least calamitous mode, of obliging the
enemy speedily to withdraw himself from our territories.
The case of individual defence is of the same nature. It does
not appear, that any advantage can result from my forbearance,
adequate to the disadvantages, of suffering my own life, or that of
another, a peculiarly valuable member of the community, as it
may happen, to become a prey to the first ruffian who inclines to
destroy it. Forbearance, in this case, will be the conduct of a
singular individual, and its effect may very probably be trifling.
Hence it appears, that I ought to arrest the villain in the execu-
tion of his designs, though at the expense of a certain degree of
coercion.
The case of an offender, who appears to be hardened in guilt,
and to trade in the violation of social security, is clearly parallel
to these. I ought to take up arms against the despot by whom
my country is invaded, because my capacity does not enable me
by arguments to prevail on him to desist, and because my country-
men will not preserve their intellectual independence in the midst
of oppression. For the same reason I ought to take up arms
against the domestic spoiler, because I am unable, either to per-
suade him to desist, or the community to adopt a just political in-
stitution, by means of which security might be maintained, con-
sistently with the abolition of punishment.
To understand the full extent of this duty, it is incumbent upon
176 OF PUNISHMENT CONSIDERED
us to remark, that anarchy as it is usually understood, and a well
conceived form of society without government, are exceedingly
different from each other. If the government of Great Britain
were dissolved to-morrow, unless that dissolution were the result
of consistent and digested views of political truth previously dis-
seminated among the inhabitants, it would be very far from lead-
ing to the abolition of violence. Individuals, freed from the ter-
rors by which they had been accustomed to be restrained, and not
yet placed under the happier and more rational restraint of pub-
lic inspection, or convinced of the wisdom of reciprocal forbear-
ance, would break out into acts of injustice, while other indivi-
duals, who desired only that this irregularity should cease, would
find themselves obliged to associate for its forcible suppression.
We should have all the evils and compulsory restraint attached
to a regular government, at the same time that we were deprived
of that tranquillity and leisure which are its only advantages.
It may not be useless in this place, to consider, more accurately
than we have hitherto done, the evils of anarchy. Such a review
may afford us a criterion by which to discern, as well the com-
parative value of different institutions, as the precise degree of
coercion which is required for the exclusion of universal violence
and tumult.
Anarchy, in its own nature, is an evil of short duration. The
more horrible are the mischiefs it inflicts, the more does it hasten
to a close. But it is nevertheless necessary that we should con-
sider, both what is the quantity of mischief it produces in a given
period, and what is the scene in which it promises to close. The
first victim that is sacrificed at its shrine, is personal security.
Every man who has a secret foe, ought to dread the dagger of
that foe. There is no doubt that, in the worst anarchy, mul-
titudes of men will sleep in happy obscurity. But woe to him
who, by whatever means, excites the envy, the jealousy or the
suspicion of his neighbour ! Unbridled ferocity instantly marks
him for its prey. This is indeed the principal evil of such a state,
that the wisest, the brightest, the most generous and bold, will
often be most exposed to an immature fate. In such a state we must
bid farewell, to the patient lucubrations of the philosopher, and
the labour of the midnight oil. All is here, like the society in
which it exists, impatient and headlong. Mind will frequently
burst forth, but its appearance will be like the coruscations of the
meteor, not like the mild and equable illumination of the sun.
Men, -who start forth into sudden energy, will resemble in temper
the state that brought them to this unlocked for greatness. They
will be rigorous, unfeeling and fierce ; and their ungoverned pas-
sions will often not stop at equality, but incite them to grasp at
power.
. With all these evils, we must not hastily conclude, that the
mischiefs of anarchy are worse than those which government is
qualified to produce. With respect to personal security, anarchy
is perhaps a condition more deplorable than despotism ; but then
AS A TEMPORARY EXPEDIENT. 177
it is to be considered, that despotism is as perennial, as anarchy
is transitory. Despotism, as it existed under the Roman em-
perors, marked out wealth for its victim, and the guilt of being
rich never failed to convict the accused of every other crime.
This despotism continued for centuries. Despotism, as it has
existed in modern Europe, has been ever full of jealousy and in-
trigue, a tool to the rage of courtiers and the resentment of
women. He that dared utter a word against the tyrant, or en-
deavour to instruct his countrymen in their interests, was never
secure that the next moment would not conduct him to a dungeon.
Here despotism wreaked her vengeance at leisure ; and forty
years of misery and solitude were sometimes insufficient to
satiate her fury. Nor was this all. An usurpation, that defied
all the rules of justice, was obliged to purchase its own safety, by
assisting tyranny through all its subordinate ranks. Hence the
rights of nobility, of feudal vassalage, of primogeniture, of fines
and inheritance. When the philosophy of law shall be properly
understood, the true key to its spirit and history will probably be
found, not, as some men have fondly imagined, in a desire to
secure the happiness of mankind, but in the venal compact by
which superior tyrants have purchased the countenance and
alliance of the inferior.
There is one point remaining in which anarchy and despotism
are strongly contrasted with each other. Anarchy awakens
thought, and diffuses energy and enterprise through the community,
though it does not effect this in the best manner, as its fruits,
forced into ripeness, must not be expected to have the vigorous
stamina of true excellence. But, in despotism, mind is trampled
into an equality of the most odious sort. Every thing that pro-
mises greatness is destined tof all under the exterminating hand
of suspicion and envy. In despotism, there is no encouragement
to excellence. Mind delights to expatiate in a field where every
species of distinction is within its reach. A scheme of policy,
under which all men are fixed in classes, or levelled with the dust,
affords it no encouragement to pursue its career. The inhabitants
of countries in which despotism is complete, are frequently but a
more vicious species of brutes. Oppression stimulates Ihem to
mischief and piracy, and superior force of mind often displays
itself only in deeper treachery, or more daring injustice.
One of the most interesting questions, in relation to anarchy, is
that of the result in which it may be expected to terminate. The
possibilities as to this termination are as wide as the various
schemes of society which the human imagination can conceive.
Anarchy may and has terminated in despotism ; and, in that case,
the introduction of anarchy will only serve to afflict us with a
variety of evils. It may lead to a modification of despotism, a
milder and more equitable government than that which had gone
before. It cannot immediately lead to the best form of society,
since it necessarily leaves mankind in a state of ferment, which
27. VOL. ii. K
1 78 OF PUNISHMENT CONSIDERED
requires a strong hand to control, and a slow and wary process
to trariquillise.
The scene in which anarchy shall terminate, principally de-
pends upon the state of mind by which it has been preceded.
All mankind were in a state of anarchy, that is, without govern-
ment, previously to their being in a state of policy. It would not
be difficult to find, in the history of almost every country, a period
of anarchy. The people of England w r ere in a state of anarchy
immediately before the Restoration. The Roman people were in
a state of anarchy, at the moment of their secession to the Sacred
Mountain. Hence it follows that anarchy is neither so good nor
so ill a thing, in relation to its consequences, as it has sometime*
been represented.
Little good can be expected from any species of anarchy, that
should subsist, for instance, among American savages. In order
to anarchy being rendered a seed-plot of future justice, reflection
and enquiry must have gone before, the regions of philosophy
must have been penetrated, and political truth have opened her
school to mankind. It is for this reason that the revolutions of
the present age (for revolution is a species of anarchy) promise
a more auspicious ultimate result, than the revolutions of any
former period. For the same reason, the more anarchy can be
held at bay, the more fortunate will it be for mankind. False-
hood may gain by precipitating the crisis ; but a genuine and en-
lightened philanthropy will wait, with unaltered patience, for the
harvest of instruction. The arrival of that harvest may be slow,
but it is perhaps infallible. If vigilance and wisdom be successful
in their present opposition to anarchy, every benefit may ulti-
mately be expected, untarnished with violence, and unstained
with blood.
These observations are calculated to lead us to an accurate
estimate of the mischiefs of anarchy, and, of consequence, to
show the importance we are bound to attach to the exclusion of
it. Government is frequently a source of peculiar evils ; but an
enlarged view will teach us to endure those evils, which experience
seems to evince are inseparable from the final benefit of man-
kind. From the savage state to the highest degree of civilisation,
the passage is long and arduous ; and, if we aspire to the final
result, we must submit to that portion of misery and vice which
necessarily fills the space between. If we would free ourselves
from these inconveniences, unless our attempt be both skilful and
cautious, we shall be in danger, by our impatience, of producing
worse evils than those AVC would escape. Now it is the first
principle of morality and justice that directs us, where one of
two evils is inevitable, to choose the least. Of consequence, the
wise and just man, being unable, as yet, to introduce the form of
society which his understanding approves, will contribute to the
support of so much coercion as is necessary to exclude what is
worse anarchy.
AS A TEMPORARY EXPEDIENT. 179
If then constraint, as the antagonist of constraint, must, in cer-
tain cases, and under temporary circumstances, be admitted, it is
an interesting enquiry, to ascertain which of the three ends of
punishment, already enumerated, must be selected by the indi-
viduals by whom punishment is employed. And here it will be
sufficient, very briefly to recollect the reasonings that have been
stated under each of these heads.
It cannot be reformation. Reformation is improvement ; and
nothing can take place in a man worthy the name of improve-
ment, otherwise than by an appeal to the unbiassed judgment of
his mind, and the essential feelings of his nature. If I would
improve a man's character, who is there that knows not, that the
only effectual mode is, by removing all extrinsic influences and
incitements, by inducing him to observe, to reason and enquire,
by leading him to the forming a series of sentiments that are
truly his own, and not slavishly modelled upon the sentiments of
another ?
To conceive that compulsion and punishment are the proper
means of reformation, is the sentiment of a barbarian ; civiliza-
tion and science are calculated to explode so ferocious an idea.
It was once universally admitted and approved; it is now neces-
sarily upon the decline.
Punishment must either ultimately succeed in imposing the
sentiments it is employed to inculcate upon the mind of the
sufferer ; or it must forcibly alienate him against them.
The last of these can never be the intention of its employer, or
have a tendency to justify its application. If it were so, punish-
ment ought to follow upon deviations from vice, not deviations
from virtue. Yet to alienate the mind of the sufferer from the
individul that punishes, and from the sentiments he entertains, is
perhaps the most common effect of punishment.
Let us suppose, however, that its effect is of an opposite nature ;
that it produces obedience, and even a change of opinion. What
sort of a being does it leave the man thus reformed ? His opinions
are not changed upon evidence. His conversion is the result of
fear. Servility has operated that within him, which liberal en-
quiry and instruction were not able to do.
Punishment undoubtedly may change a man's behaviour. It
may render his external conduct beneficial from injurious, though
it is no very promising expedient for that purpose. But it cannot
improve his sentiments, or lead him to the form of right proceed-
ing but by the basest and most despicable motives. It leaves him
a slave, devoted to an exclusive self-interest, and actuated by fear,
the meanest of the selfish passions.
But it may be said, "however strong may be the reasons I am
able to communicate to a man in order to his reformation, he
may be restless and impatient of expostulation, and of conse-
quence render it necessary that I should retain him by force, till
I can properly instil these reasons into his mind." It must be re-
membered that the idea here is not that of precaution, to pre-
N 2
180 OF PUNISHMENT CONSIDERED.
vent the mischiefs he might perpetrate, for that belongs to an-
other of the three ends of punishment, that of restraint. But,
separately from this idea, the argument is peculiarly weak. If
the reasons I have to communicate be of an energetic and impressive
nature, if they stand forward perspicuous and distinct in my
own mind, it will be strange if they do not, at the outset, excite
curiosity and attention in him to whom they are addressed. It is
my duty to choose a proper season to communicate them, and not
to betray the cause of justice by an ill-timed impatience. This
prudence I should infallibly exercise, if my object were to obtain
something interesting to myself; why should I be less quick-
sighted when I purpose the benefit of another ? It is a miserable
way of preparing a man for conviction, to compel him by violence
to hear an expostulation which he is eager to avoid. These argu-
ments prove, not that we should lose sight of reformation, if
punishment for any other reason appear to be necessary; but
that reformation cannot reasonably be made the object of punish-
ment.
Punishment for the sake of example, is a theory that can never
be justly maintained. The suffering proposed to be inflicted,
considered absolutely, is either right or wrong. If it be right, it
should be inflicted for its intrinsic recommendations. If it be
wrong, what sort of example does it display ? To do a thing for
the sake of example, is, in other words, to do a thing to-day, in
order to prove that I will do a similar thing to-morrow. This
must always be a subordinate consideration. No argument has
been so grossly abused as this of example. We found it, under
the subject of war,* employed to prove the propriety of my doing
a thing otherwise wrong, in order to convince the opposite party
that I should, when occasion offered, do something else that was
right. He will display the best example, who carefully studies
the principles of justice, and assiduously practices them. A
better effect will be produced in human society by my conscien-
tious adherence to them, than by my anxiety to create a specific
expectation respecting my future conduct. This argument will
be still further enforced, if we recollect what has already been
said, respecting the inexhaustible differences of different cases,
and the impossibility of reducing them to general rules.f
The third object of punishment according to the enumeration
already made, is restraint. If punishment be, in any case, to be
admitted, this is the only object it can reasonably propose to itself.
The serious objections to which, even in this point of view, it is
liable, have been stated in another stage of the enquiry j : the
amount of the necessity tending to supersede these objections, has
also been considered.
The subject of this chapter is of great importance, in propor-
tion to the length of time that may possibly elapse, before any
considerable part of mankind shall be persuaded, to exchange
* Book V., Chap. XVI., p. 72. ( Chap. IV. * Chap. III.
SCALE OF PUNISHMENT. 181
the present complexity of political institution, for a mode which
promises to supersede the necessity of punishment. It is highly
unworthy of the cause of truth, to suppose that, during this in-
terval, I have no active duties to perform, that I am not obliged to
co-operate for the present welfare of the community, as well as
for its future regeneration. The temporary obligation that arises
out of this circumstance, exactly corresponds with what was for-
merly delivered on the subject of duty. Duty is the best possible
application of a given power to the promotion of the general
good.* But my power depends upon the disposition of the men
by whom I am surrounded. If I were enlisted in an army of
cowards, it might be my duty to retreat, though, absolutely con-
sidered, it should have been the duty of the army to come to
blows. Under every possible circumstance, it is my duty to ad-
vance the general good, by the best means which the circum-
stances under which I am placed will admit.
CHAP. VI.
SCALE OF PUNISHMENT.
Its sphere described. Its several classes. Death icitn torture. Death
absolutely. Origin of this policy in the corruptness of political
institutions in the inhumanity of the inslitutors. Corporal punish-
ment. Its absurdity. Its atrociousness. Privation of freedom.
Duty of reforming our neighbour an inferior consideration in this
case. Its place described. Modes of restraint. Indiscriminate im-
prisonment. Solitary imprisonment. Its severity. Its moral effects.
Slavery. Banishment. 1. Simple banishment. 2. Transporta-
tion. 3. Colonisation. This project has miscan-ied from unkindness
from officiousness. Its permanent evils. Recapitulation.
IT is time to proceed to the consideration of certain inferences
that may be deduced from the theory of punishment which has
now been delivered ; nor can any thing be of greater importance
than these inferences will be found, to the virtue, the happiness
and improvement of mankind.
And, first, it evidently follows that punishment is an act of
painful necessity, inconsistent with the true character and genius
of mind, the practice of which is temporarily imposed upon us
by the corruption and ignorance that reign among mankind.
Nothing can be more absurd, than to look to it as a source of
improvement. It contributes to the generation of excellence just
as the keeper of the course contributes to the fleetness of the
race. Nothing can be more unjust, than to have recourse to it,
* Vol. I., Book II., Chap IV.
182 SCALE OF PUNISHMENT.
but upon the most unquestionable emergency. Instead of mul-
tiplying occasions of coercion, and applying it as the remedy of
every moral evil, the true politician will anxiously confine it
within the narrowest limits, and perpetually seek to diminish the
occasions of its employment There is but one reason which can,
in any case, be admitted as its apology, and that is, where the
allowing the offender to be at large shall be notoriously ha/ ardous
to public security.
Secondly, the consideration of restraint, as the only justifiable
ground of punishment, will furnish us with a simple and satisfac-
tory criterion by which to measure the justice of the suffering
inflicted.
The infliction of a lingering and tormenting death cannot be
vindicated upon this hypothesis ; for such infliction can only be
dictated by sentiments of resentment on the one hand, or by the
desire to exhibit a terrible example on the other.
To deprive an offender of his life in any manner, will appear
to be unjust, as it seems always sufficiently practicable, without
this, to prevent him from further offence. Privation of life,
though by no means the greatest injury that can be inflicted,
must always be considered as a very serious injury ; since it puts
a perpetual close upon the prospects of the sufferer, as to all the
enjoyments, the virtues, and the excellence of a human being.
In the story of those whom the merciless laws of Europe
doom to destruction, we sometimes meet with persons who,
subsequently to their offence, have succeeded to a plentiful inhe-
ritance, or who, for some other reason, appear to have had the
fairest prospects of tranquillity and happiness opened upon them.
Their story, with a little accommodation, may be considered as
the story of every offender. If there be any man whom it may
be necessary, for the safety of the whole, to put under restraint,
this circumstance is a powerful plea to the humanity and justice
of those who conduct the affairs of the community, in his behalf.
This is the man who most stands in need of. their assistance. If
they treated him with kindness, instead of supercilious and
unfeeling neglect, if they made him imderstand with how much
reluctance they had been induced to employ the force of the
society against him, if they represented the true state of the case
with calmness, perspicuity, and benevolence, to his mind, if they
employed those precautions, which an humane disposition would
not fail to suggest, to keep from him the motives of corruption
and obstinacy, his reformation would be almost infallible. These
are the prospects to which his wants and his misfortunes power-
fully entitle him ; and it is from these prospects that the hand of
the executioner cuts him off for ever.
It is a mistake to suppose, that this treatment of criminals,
tends to multiply crimes. On the contrary, few men would
enter upon a course of violence, with the certainty of being
obliged, by a slow and patient process, to amputate their errors.
It is the uncertainty of punishment under the existing forms,
SCALE OF PUNISHMENT. 183
that multiplies crimes. Remove this uncertainty, and it would
be as reasonable to expect that a man would wilfully break his
leg, for the sake of being cured by a skilful surgeon. Whatever
gentleness the intellectual physician may display, it is not to be
believed that men can part with rooted habits of injustice and
vice, without considerable pain.
The true reasons, in consequence of which these forlorn and
deserted members of the community are brought to an ignomini-
ous death, are, first, the peculiar iniquity of the civil institutions
of that community, and, secondly, the supineness and apathy of
their superiors. In republican and simple forms of government,
punishments are rare, and the punishment of death almost
unknown. On the other hand, the more there is in any country
of inequality and oppression, the more punishments are multiplied.
The more the institutions of society contradict the genuine sen-
timents of the human mind, the more severely is it necessary to
avenge their violation. At the same time the rich and titled
members of the community, proud of their fancied eminence,
behold, with total unconcern, the destruction of the destitute
-and the wretched, disdaining to recollect that, if there be any
intrinsic difference between them, it is the offspring of their
different circumstances, and that the man whom they now so
much despise, might have been found as accomplished and sus-
ceptible as they, if he had only changed situations. When we
behold a company of poor wretches brought out for execution,
reflection will present to our affrighted fancy all the hopes and
possibilities which are thus brutally extinguished ; the genius,
the daring invention, the unshrinking firmness, the tender cha-
rities and ardent benevolence, which have occasionally, under
this system, been sacrificed, at the shrine of torpid luxury and
unrelenting avarice.
The species of suffering commonly known by the appellation
of corporal punishment, is also proscribed by the system above
established. Corporal punishment, unless so far as it is intended
for example, appears, in one respect, in a very ludicrous point of
vie~v. It is an expeditious mode of proceeding, which has been
invented in order to compress the effect of much reasoning and
long confinement, that might otherwise have been necessary,
into a very short compass. In another view, it is difficult to
express the abhorrence it ought to create. The genuine propen-
sity of man is to venerate mind in his fellow man. With what
delight do we contemplate the progress of intellect, its efforts for
the discovery of truth, the harvest of virtue that springs up under
the genial influence of instruction, the wisdom that is generated
through the medium of unrestricted communication ? How com-
pletely do violence and corporal infliction reverse the scene ?
From this moment, all the wholesome avenues of mind are
closed, and, on every side, we see them guarded with a train of
disgraceful passions, hatred, revenge, despotism, cruelty, hypo-
crisy, conspiracy and cowardice. Man becomes the enemy of
184 SCALE OF PUNISHMENT,
man ; the stronger are seized with the lust of unbridled domina-
tion, and the weaker shrink, with hopeless disgust, from the
approach of a fellow. With what feelings must an enlightened
observer contemplate the furrow of a lash imprinted upon the
body of a man? What heart beats not in unison with the sub-
lime law of antiquity, " Thou shalt not inflict stripes upon the
body of a Roman ?" There is but one alternative in this case,
on the part of the sufferer. Either his mind must be subdued by
the arbitrary dictates of the superior (for to him all is arbitrary
that does not stand approved to the judgment of his own under-
standing ;) he will be governed by something that is not reason,
and ashamed of something that is not disgrace ; or else every
pang he endures will excite the honest indignation of his heart,
and fix the clear disapprobation of his intellect, will produce
contempt and alienation against his punisher.
The justice of punishment is built upon this simple principle :
Every man is bound to employ such means as shall suggest them-
selves, for preventing evils subversive of general security, it
being first ascertained, either by experience or reasoning, that
all milder methods are inadequate to the exigency of the case.
The conclusion from this principle is, that we are bound, under
certain urgent circumstances, to deprive the offender of the
liberty he has abused. Further than this perhaps no circum-
stance can authorise us. He whose person is imprisoned (if
that be the right kind of seclusion), cannot interrupt the peace
of his fellows ; and the infliction of further evil, when his power
to injure is removed, is the wild and unauthorised dictate of
vengeance and rage, the wanton sport of unquestioned superiority.
When indeed the person of the offender has been first seized,
there is a further duty incumbent on his punisher, the duty of
endeavouring his reform. But this makes no part of the direct
consideration. The duty of every man to contribute to the
intellectual health of his neighbour, is of general application.
Beside which it is proper to recollect, what has been already
proved, that coercion of no sort is among the legitimate means of
reformation. Restrain the offender, as long as the safety of the
community prescribes it, for this is just. Restrain him not aa
instant from a simple view to his own improvement, for this is
contrary to reason and morality.
Meanwhile, there is one circumstance, by means of which
restraint and reformation are closely connected. The person of
the offender is to be restrained, as long as the public safety
would be endangered by his liberation. But the public safety
will cease to be endangered, as soon as his propensities and dis-
positions have undergone a change. The connection which thus
results from the nature of things, renders it necessary, that, in
deciding upon the species of restraint to be imposed, these cir-
cumstances be considered jointly, how the personal liberty of the
offender may be least intrenched upon, and how his reformation
may be best promoted.
SCALE OF PUNISHMENTS. 185
The most common method pursued in depriving the offender of
the liberty he has abused, is to erect a public jail, in which of-
fenders of every description are thrust together, and left to form
among themselves -what species of society they can. Various
circumstances contribute to imbue them with habits of indolence
and vice, and to discourage industry ; and no effort is made to
remove or soften these circumstances. It cannot be necessary to
expatiate upon the atrociousness of this system. Jails are, to a
proverb, seminaries of vice ; and he must be an uncommon pro-
ficient in the passion and the practice of injustice, or a man of
sublime virtue, who does not come out of them a much worse
man than he entered.
An active observer of mankind,* with the purest intentions,
and who had paid a singular attention to this subject, was struck
with the mischievous tendency of the reigning system, and called
the attention of the public to a scheme of solitary imprisonment.
But this, though free from the defects of the established mode, is
liable to very weighty objections.
It must strike every reflecting mind as uncommonly tyrannical
and severe. It cannot therefore be admitted -into the system of
mild coercion which forms the topic of our enquiry. Man is a
social animal. How far he is necessarily so, will appear, if we
consider the sum of advantages resulting from the social, and of
which he would be deprived in the solitary state. But, inde-
pendently of his original structure, he is eminently social by his
habits. Will you deprive the man you imprison, of paper and
books, of tools and amusements? One of the arguments in fa-
vour of solitary imprisonment is, that it is necessary the offender
should be called off from wrong habits of thinking, and obliged
to enter into himself. This, the advocates of solitary imprison-
ment probably believe, will be most effectually done, the fewer
be the avocations of the prisoner. But let us suppose that he is
indulged in these particulars, and only deprived of society. How
many men are there that can derive amusement from books?
We are, in this respect, the creatures of habit, and it is scarcely
to be expected from ordinary men, that they should mould them-
selves to any species of employment, to which in their youth they
were strangers. But he that is most fond of study, has his mo-
ments when study pleases no longer. The soul yearns, with
inexpressible longings, for the society of its like. Because the
public safety unwillingly commands the confinement of an of-
fender, must he for that reason never light up this countenance
with a smile ? Who can tell the sufferings of him who is con-
demned to uninterrupted solitude ? Who can tell that this is not,
to the majority of mankind, the bitterest torment that human
ingenuity can inflict? A mind sufficiently sublime might per-
haps conquer this inconvenience : but the powers of such a mind
do not enter into the present question.
Mr. Howard.
186 SCALE OF PUNISHMENTS.
From the examination of solitary imprisonment, in itself con-
sidered, we are naturally led to enquire into its real tendency, as
to the article of reformation, To be virtuous, it is requisite that
we should consider men, and their relation to each other. As a
preliminary to this study, it is necessary that we should be shut out
from the society of men ? Shall we be most effectually formed to
justice, benevolence and prudence in our intercourse with each
other, in a state of solitude ? Will not our selfish and unsocial
dispositions be perpetually increased ? What temptation has ho
to think of benevolence or justice, who has no opportunity to
exercise it ? The true soil in which atrocious crimes are found to
germinate, is a gloomy and morose disposition. Will his heart
become much either softened or expanded, who breathes the
atmosphere of a dungeon ? Surely it would be better, in this
respect, to imitate the system of the universe, and, if we would
leach justice and humanity, transplant those we would teach into
a simple and reasonable state of society. Solitude, absolutely
considered, may instigate us to serve ourselves, but not to serve
our neighbours. Solitude, imposed under too few limitations,
may be a nursery for madmen and idiots, but not for useful
members of society.
Another idea which has suggested itself with regard to the re-
moval of offenders from the community they have injured, is that
of reducing them to a state of slavery or hard labour. The true
refutation of this system is anticipated in what has been already
-said. To the safety of the community it is unnecessary. As a
means to the reformation of the offender, it is inexpressibly ill-
conceived. Man is an intellectual being. There is no way to
make him virtuous, but in calling forth his intellectual powers.
There is no way to make him virtuous, but by making him inde-
pendent. He must study the laws of nature, and the necessary
consequence of actions, not the arbitrary caprice of his superior.
Do you desire that I should work ? Do not drive me to it with
-the whip ; for, if, before, I thought it better to be idle, this will
but increase my alienation. Persuade my understanding, and
render it the subject of my choice. It can only be by the most
deplorable perversion of reason, that we can be induced to believe
any species of slavery, from the slavery of the school -boy to that
-of the most unfortunate negro in our West India plantations,
favourable to virtue.*
A scheme greatly preferable to any of these, and which has
been tried under various forms, is that of transportation or banish-
* The institution of personal slavery has, within a few years, made a con-
siderable progress in the island of Great Britain. The first step was that of
sending criminals, whose guilt was of an inferior description, to raise ballast
from the bed of the Thames. The second step, more serious in its nature,
appears to have resulted from the well intended, but misguided, philanthropy
of Mr. Howard. This consisted in the erecting jails of solitary confinement
in various parts of the country. The prisoners in these jails spend a large
portion of their time shut up in silent and dreary cells, like so many madmen.
Th rest of their time is employed in what is called hard labour, under the
SCALE OF PUNISHMENTS. 187
.ment. This scheme, under the most judicious modifications, is
liable to objection. It would be strange if any scheme of coer-
cion or violence were not so. But it has been made appear still
more exceptionable, than it will be found in its intrinsic nature,
by the crude and incoherent circumstances with which it has
usually been executed.
Banishment in its simple form, that is, a mere prohibition of
residence, has, at least in certain aggravated eases, a strong ap-
pearance of injustice. The citizen whose presence we will not
endure in our own country, we have a very questionable right to
impose upon any other.
Banishment has sometimes been joined with slavery. Such
was the practice of Great Britain previously to the detection of
her American colonies. This cannot stand in need of a separate
refutation.
A very usual species of banishment is removal to a country yet
unsettled. Something may be alleged in favour of this mode of
proceeding. The labour by which the undisciplined mind is best
weaned from the vicious habits of a corrupt society, is the labour,
not which is prescribed by the mandate of a superior, but which
is imposed by the necessity of subsistence. The first settlement
of Rome, by Romulus and his vagabonds, is a happy image of
this, whether we consider it as a real history, or as the ingenious
fiction of a writer well acquainted with the principles of mind.
Men who are freed from the injurious institutions of European,
government, and obliged to begin the world for themselves, are in
the direct road to be virtuous.
Two circumstances have hitherto contributed to render this
project abortive. First, that the mother-country pursues this
species of colony with her hatred. The chief anxiety is, in rea-
lity, to render its residence odious and uncomfortable, with the
vain idea of deterring offenders. The chief anxiety ought to be,
to smooth their difficulties, and contribute to their happiness.
We should recollect that the colonists are men, for whom we
ought to feel no sentiments but those of kindness and compassion.
If we were reasonable, we should regret the cruel exigence that
obliges us to treat them in a manner unsuitable to the nature of
mind; and having complied with the demand of that exigence,
we should next be anxious to confer upon them every benefit in
our power. But we are unreasonable. We harbour a thousand
savage feelings of resentment and vengeance. We thrust them
out to the remotest corner of the Avorld. We subject them to
inspection of certain ignorant and insolent task-masters. It is asserted that,
in one of these jails (Clerkenwell New Prison,) its unfortunate tenants are
engaged for five hours in each day, in trundling' a wheel-barrow round in a
circle. The cruelty of this imposition is inexpressibly heightened by its
impudent uselessness From this instance we may perceive, that the in-
ventiveness of tyranny did not perish with the race oi" the Dionysii. Cases of
this sort it is our duty, as citizens, to notice, that t!:c chance of their existing
without the knowledge of those to wli"si> province th'-ir superintendence be-
longs may be removed.
188 SCALE OF PUNISHMENTS.
perish by multitudes with hardship and hunger. Perhaps, if cmr
treatment of such unfortunate men were sufficiently humane,
banishment to the Hebrides would prove as effectual as banish-
ment to the Antipodes.
Secondly, it is absolutely necessary, upon the principles here
explained, that these colonists, after having been sufficiently pro-
vided in the outset, should be left to themselves. We do worse
than nothing, if we pursue them into their obscure retreat with
the inauspicious influence of our European institutions. Why
trouble ourselves with sending magistrates and officers to govern
and direct them ? Do we suppose that, if left to themselves, they
would universally destroy each other? On the contrary, new
situations make new minds. The worst criminals, when turned
adrift in a body, and reduced to feel the churlish fang of necessity,
conduct themselves upon reasonable principles, and have been
found to proceed with a sagacity and public spirit, that might
put the proudest monarchy to the blush.
Meanwhile let us not forget the inherent vices of punishment,
which present themselves from whatever point the subject is
viewed. Colonisation may be thought the most eligible of those
expedients which have been stated, but it is attended with con-
siderable difficulties. The community judges of a certain indi-
vidual, that his residence cannot be tolerated among them con-
sistently with the general safety. In denying him his choice
among other communities do they not exceed their commission ?
What treatment shall be awarded him, if he return from the
banishment to which he was sentenced ? These difficulties (and
many others might be subjoined to these,) are calculated to bring
back the mind to the absolute injustice of punishment, and to
render us inexpressibly anxious for the period at which it shall
be abolished.
To conclude. The observations of this chapter are relative to
a theory, which affirmed that it might be the duty of individuals,
but never of communities, to exert a certain species of political
coercion; and which founded this duty upon a consideration of
the benefits of public security. Under these circumstances then,
every individual is bound to judge for himself, and to yield his
countenance to no other coercion, than that which is indispensibly
necessary. He will, no doubt, endeavour to meliorate those in-
stitutions, with which lie cannot prevail upon his countrymen to
part. He will decline all concern in the execution of such, as
abuse the plea of public security to atrocious purposes. Laws
may easily be found in almost every code, which, on account of
the iniquity of their provisions, are suffered to fall into disuse by
general consent. Every lover of justice will, in this way, con-
tribute to the repeal of laws that wantonly usurp upon the in-
dependence of mankind, whether by the multiplicity of their re-
strictions, or the severity of their sanctions.
OF EVIDENCE. 189
CHAP. VII.
OF EVIDENCE.
Difficulties to which this subject is liable exemplified in the distinction
between overt actions and intentions Reasons against this distinction,
Principle in which it is founded
HATING sought to ascertain the decision in which questions of
offence against the general safety ought to terminate, it only re-
mains under this head of enquiry to consider the principles ac-
cording to which the trial should be conducted. These principles
may for the most part be referred to two points, the evidence that
is to be required, and the method to be pursued by us in classing
offences.
The difficulties to which the subject of evidence is liable, have
been stated in the earlier divisions of this work.* It maybe
worth while, in this place, to recollect the difficulties which attend
upon one particular class of evidence, it being scarcely possible
that the imagination of every reader should not suffice him to
apply this text, and to perceive how easily the same kind of
enumeration might be extended to any other class.
It has been asked, " Why intentions are not subjected to the
animadversion of criminal justice, in the same manner as direct
acts of offence ?"
The arguments in favour of their being thus subjected are
obvious. "The proper object of political superintendence is not
the past, but the future. Society cannot justly employ punish-
ment against any individual, however atrocious may have been
his misdemeanours, from any other than a prospective considera-
tion, that is, a consideration of the danger with which his habits
may be pregnant to the general safety. Past conduct cannot pro-
perly fall under the animadversion of government, except so far
as it is an indication of the future. But past conduct appears, at
first sight, to afford a slighter presumption as to what the delin-
quent will do hereafter, than declared intention. The man who
professes his determination to commit murder, seems to be
scarcely a less dangerous member of society, than he who, having
already committed murder, has no apparent intention to repeat
his offence." Yet all governments have agreed, either to pass
over the menace in silence, or to subject the offender to a much
less degree of punishment, than they employ against him by
whom the crime has been perpetrated. It may be right perhaps
to yield them some attention when they thus agree in forbearance,
though little is probably due to their agreement in inhumanity.
This distinction, so far as it is founded in reason, has relation
Particularly Chnp. IV.
190 OF LAW.
principally to the uncertainty of evidence. Before the intention
of any man can be ascertained, in a court of justice, from the
consideration of the words he has employed, a variety of circum-
stances must be taken into the account. The witness heard the
words which were employed : does he repeat them accurately, or
has not his want of memory caused him to substitute, in the room
of some of them, words of his own ? Before it is possible to de-
cide, upon the confident expectation I may entertain, that these
words will be followed with correspondent actions, it is necessary
I should know the exact tone with which they were delivered,
and gesture with which they were accompanied. It is necessary
I should be acquainted with the context, and the occasion that
produced them. Their construction will depend upon the quan-
tity of momentary heat or rooted malice with which they were
delivered ; and words, which appear at first sight of tremendous
import, will sometimes be found, upon accurate investigation, to
have had a meaning purely ironical in the mind of the speaker.
These considerations, together with the odious nature of punish-
ment in general, and the extreme mischief that may attend our
restraining the faculty of speech, in addition to the restraint we
conceive ourselves obliged to put on men's actions, will pro-
bably be found to afford a sufficient reason, why words ought sel-
dom or never to be made a topic of political animadversion.
CHAP. VIII.
OF LAW.
Arguments by which it is recommended. Answer. Law is, 1. endless
particularly in a free state, Causes of this disadvantage. 2. un-
certain instanced in questions of property. Mode in which it must
be studied. 3. pretends toforetel future events. Laws are a species
of promises check the freedom of opinion are destructive of the
principles of reason. Dishonesty of lawyers. An honest lawyer
mischievous. Abolition of law vindicated on the score of ivisdom of
candour from the nature of man. Future history of political jus-
tice. Errors that might arise in the commencement. Its gradual
progress. Its effects on criminal law on property.
A FURTHER article of great importance in the trial of offences,
is that of the method to be pursued by us in classing them, and
the consequent apportioning the degree of animadversion to the
cases that may arise. This article brings us to the direct con-
sideration of law, which is, without doubt, one of the most im-
portant topics upon which human intellect can be employed. It
is law that has hitherto be^n regarded, in countries calling them-
OF LAW. 191
selves civilised, as the standard, by which to measure all offences-
and irregularities that fall under public animadversion. Let us
fairly investigate the merits of this choice.
The comparison which has presented itself to those by whom
the topic has been investigated, has hitherto been between law on
one side, and the arbitrary will of a despot on the other. But if
we would estimate truly the merits of law, we should first con-
sider it, as it is initself, and then, if necessary, search for the
most eligible principle that may be substituted in its place.
It has been recommended, as "affording information to the
different members of the community, respecting the principles
which will be adopted in deciding upon their actions." It has
been represented as the highest degree of iniquity, " to try men
by an ex post facto law, or indeed in any other manner, than
by the letter of a law, formally made, and sufficiently pro-
mulgated."
How far it will be safe altogether to annihilate this principle,
we shall presently have occasion to enquire. It is obvious, at
first sight, to remark, that it is of most importance, in a country
where the system of jurisprudence is most capricious and absurd.
If it be deemed criminal in any society to wear clothes of a par-
ticular texture, or buttons of a particular composition, it is un-
avoidable to exclaim, that it is high time the jurisprudence of
that society should inform its members what are the fantastic
rules by which they mean to proceed. But, if a society be con-
tented with the rules of justice, and do not assume to itself the
right of distorting or adding to those rules, there law is evidently
a less necessary institution. The rules of justice would be more
clearly and effectually taught, by an actual intercourse with,
human society, unrestrained by the fetters of prepossession, than
they can be by catechisms and codes.*
One result of the institution of law is, that the institution, once
begun, can never be brought to a close. Edict is heaped upon
edict, and volume upon volume. This will be most the case,
where the government is most popular, and its proceedings have
most in them of the nature of deliberation. Surely this is no
slight indication that the principle is wrong, and that, of con-
sequence, the further we proceed in the path it marks out to us,
the more we shall be bewildered. No task can be less hopeful
than that of effecting a coalition between a right principle and a
wrong. He that seriously and sincerely attempts it, will perhaps
expose himself to more palpable ridicule, than he who, instead of
professing two opposite systems, should adhere to the worst.
There is no maxim more clear than this, " Every case is a rule
to itself." No action of any man was ever the same as any
other action, had ever the same degree of utility or injury. It
should seem to be the business of justice to distinguish the
qualities of men, and not, which has hitherto been the practice,
* Book VI., Chap. VI 1 1.
192 OF LAW.
to confound them. But what has been the result of an attempt
to do this in relation to law ? As new cases occur, the law is per-
petually found deficient. How should it be otherwise ? Law-
givers have not the faculty of unlimited prescience, and cannot
define that which is boundless. The alternative that remains is,
either to wrest the law to include a case which was never in the
contemplation of its authors, or to make a new law to provide for
this particular case. Much has been done in the first of these
modes. The quibbles of lawyers, and the arts by which they re-
fine and distort the sense of the law, are proverbial. But, though
much is. done, every thing cannot be thus done. The abuse will
sometimes be too palpable. Not to say that the very education
that enables the lawyer, when he is employed for the prosecutor,
to find out offences the lawgiver never meant, enables him, when
he is employed for the defendant, to discover subterfuges, that re-
duce the law to a nullity. It is therefore perpetually necessary
to make new laws. These laws, in order to escape evasion, are
frequently tedious, minute, and circumlocutory. The volume in
which justice records her prescriptions is for ever increasing, and
the world would not contain the books that might be written.
The consequence of the infinitude of law, is its uncertainty.
This strikes at the principle upon which law is founded. Laws
were made to put an end to ambiguity, and that each man might
know what he had to expect. How well have they answered
this purpose ? Let us instance in the article of property. Two
men go to law for a certain estate. They would not go to law if
they had not both of them an opinion of their success. But we
may suppose them partial in their own case. They would not con-
tinue to go to law, if they were not both promised success by their
lawyers. Law was made, that a plain man might know what ho
had to expect ; and yet the most skilful practitioners differ about
the event of my suit. It will sometimes happen, that the most
celebrated pleader in the kingdom, or the first counsel in the ser-
vice of the crown, shall assure me of infallible success, five
minutes before another law-officer, styled the keeper of the king's
conscience, by some unexpected juggle, decides it against me.
Would the issue have been equally uncertain, if I had had nothing
to trust to, but the plain unperverted sense of a jury of my neigh-
bours, founded in the ideas they entertained of general justice?
Lawyers have absurdly maintained, that the expensiveness of law
is necessary to prevent the unbounded multiplication of suits ;
but the true source of this multiplication is uncertainty. Men
do not quarrel about that which is evident, but that which is
obscure.
He that would study the laws of a country accustomed to legal
security, must begin with the volumes of the statutes. He must
add a strict enquiry into the common or unwritten law; and he
ought to digress into the civil, the ecclesiastical, and canon law.
To understand the intention of the authors of a law, he must be
acquainted with their characters and views, and with the various
OF LAW. 193
circumstances, to which it owed its rise, and by which it was
modified while under deliberation. To understand the weight
and interpretation that will be allowed to it in a court of justice,
he must have studied the whole collection of records, decisions
and precedents. Law was originally devised, that ordinary men
might know what they had to expect ; and there is not, at this
day, a lawyer existing in Great Britain, vain-glorious enough to
pretend that he has mastered the code. Nor must it be forgotten
that time and industry, even were they infinite, would not suffice.
It is a labyrinth without end ; it is a mass of contradictions that
cannot be disentangled. Study will enable the lawyer to find in
it plausible, perhaps unanswerable arguments for any side of
almost any question ; but it would argue the utmost folly to
suppose, that the study of law can lead to knowledge and
certainty.
A further consideration that will demonstrate the absurdity of
law in its most general acceptation, is, that it is of the nature of
prophecy. Its task is to describe what will be the actions of
mankind, and to dictate decisions respecting them. Its merits, in
this respect, have already been decided under the head of pro-
mises.* The language of such a procedure is, " We are so wise,
that we can draw no additional knowledge from circumstances as
they occur ; and we pledge ourselves that, if it be otherwise, the
additional knowledge w r e acquire, shall produce no effect upon
our conduct." It is proper to observe, that this subject of law
may be considered, in some respects, as more properly belonging
to the topic of the preceding book. Law tends, no less than
creeds, catechisms and tests, to fix the human mind in a stagnant
condition, and to substitute a principle of permanence in the
room of that unceasing progress which is the only salubrious
element of mind. All the arguments therefore which were em-
ployed upon that occasion, may be applied to the subject now
under consideration.
The fable of Procrustes presents us with a faint shadow of the
perpetual effort of law. In defiance of the great principle of
natural philosophy, that there are not so much as two atoms of
matter of the same form, through the whole universe, it endea-
vours to reduce the actions of men, which are composed of a
thousand evanescent elements, to one standard. We have already
seen the tendency of this endeavour in the article of murder.f
It was in the contemplation of this system of jurisprudence, that
the strange maxim was invented, that " strict justice would often
prove the highest injustice." J There is no more real justice in
endeavouring to reduce the actions of men into classes, than there
was in the scheme to which we have just alluded, of reducing all
men to the same stature. If, on the contrary, justice be a result,
flowing from the contemplation of all the circumstances of each
individual case, if the only criterion of justice be general utility,
Book III., Chap. III. t Ch;\p. IV. i Summuinjia summa injuria.
28. VOL. II. O
191 OF LAW.
the inevitable consequence is, that, the more we have of justice,
the more we shall have of truth, virtue and happiness.
From all these considerations we can scarcely hesitate to con-
clude universally, that law is an institution of the most pernicious
tendency.
The subject will receive some additional elucidation, if we con-
sider the perniciousness of law, in its immediate relation to those
who practise it. If there ought to be no such thing as law, the
profession of a lawyer is no doubt entitled to our disapprobation.
A lawyer can scarcely fail to be a dishonest man. This is less a
subject for censure, than for regret. Men are, in an eminent
degree, the creatures of the circumstances under which they are
placed. He that is habitually goaded by the incentives of vice
will not fail to be vicious. He that is perpetually conversant in
quibbles, false colours and sophistry, cannot equally cultivate the
generous emotions of the soul, and the nice discernment of recti-
tude. If a single individual can be found who is but superficially
tainted with the contagion, how many men on the other hand, in
whom there appeared a promise of the sublimest virtues, have by
this trade been rendered indifferent to consistency, or accessible
to a bribe ? Be it observed, that these remarks apply principally
to men eminent or successful in their profession. He that enters
into an employment, carelessly, and by way of amusement, is
much less under its influence (though even he will not escape,)
than he that enters into it with ardour and devotion.
Let us however suppose, a circumstance which is perhaps alto-
gether impossible, that a man shall be a perfectly honest lawyer.
He is determined to plead no cause, that he does not believe to
be just, and to employ no argument that he does not apprehend
to be solid. He designs, as far as his sphere extends, to strip
law of its ambiguities, and to speak the manly language of reason.
This man is, no doubt, highly respectable, so far as relates to him-
self; but it may be questioned whether he be not a more perni-
cious member of society, than the dishonest lawyer. The hopes
of mankind in relation to their future progress, depend upon their
observing the genuine effects of erroneous institutions. But this
man is employed in softening and masking these effects. His
conduct has a direct tendency to postpone the reign of sound
policy, and to render mankind tranquil in the midst of imperfec-
tion and ignorance.
What is here stated, however, in favour of the dishonest lawyer,
like that stated in favour of an imbecile monarch,* should be con-
sidered as advanced in the way of conjecture only. As there is
seme pain, which is requisite as the means of an over-balance of
pleasure, so there may, in a few extraordinary instances, be some
vice, (understanding by vice, evil intention or rooted depravity)
which is productive of the effects of virtue. In questions of this
kind, however, it becomes us to be more than usually scrupulous
* Book V., Chap. VII.
OF LAW. 195
and guarded. It is of the most pernicious consequence for us to
confound the distinctions of virtue and vice. It can scarcely be
considered as the part of a philanthropist, to rejoice in the depra-
vity of others. It is safer for us, in almost every imaginable
instance, to regard "every departure from enormous vice, as so
much gained to the cause of general happiness."*
The only principle which can be substitxited in the room of law,
is that of reason exercising an uncontrolled jurisdiction upon the
circumstances of the case. To this principle no objection can
arise on the score of wisdom. It is not to be supposed that there
are not men now existing, whose intellectual accomplishments
rise to the level of law. Law we sometimes call the wisdom of
our ancestors. But this is a strange imposition. It was as fre-
quently the dictate of their passion, of timidity, jealousy, a mono-
polising spirit, and a lust of power that knew no bounds. Are
we not obliged perpetually to revise and remodel this misnamed
wisdom of our ancestors ? to correct it by a detection of their
ignorance, and a censure of their intolerance ? But if men can
be found among us, whose wisdom is equal to the wisdom of law,
it will scarcely be maintained, that the truths they have to com-
municate will be the worse, for having no authority, but that
which they derive from the reasons that support them.
It may however be alleged that, " if there be little difficulty in
securing a current portion of wisdom, there may nevertheless be
something to be feared from the passions of men. Law may be
supposed to have been constructed in the tranquil serenity of the
soul, a suitable monitor, to check the inflamed mind, with which
the recent memory of ills might induce us to proceed to the in-
fliction of punishment." This is the most considerable argument
that can be adduced in favour of the prevailing system, and
therefore deserves a mature examination.
The true answer to this objection is, that nothing can be im-
proved but in conformity to its nature. If we consult for the wel-
fare of man, we must bear in mind the structure of man. It must
be admitted that we are imperfect, ignorant, the slaves of appear-
ances. These defects can be removed by no indirect method,
but only by the introduction of knowledge. A. specimen of the
indirect method we have in the doctrine of spiritual infallibility.
It was observed that men were liable to error, to dispute for ever
without coming to a decision, and to mistake in their most im-
portant interests. What was wanting, was supposed to be a
criterion and a judge of controversies. What was attempted,
\vas to indue truth with a visible form, and then repair to the
oracle we had erected.
The case respecting law is parallel to this. Men were aware
of the deceitfulness of appearances, and they sought a talisman to
guard them from imposition. Suppose I were to determine, at
the commencement of every day, upon a certain code of princi-
Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. XI.
1 96 OF LAW.
pies, to which I would conform the conduct of the day ; and, at
the commencement of every year, the conduct of the year. Sup-
pose I were to determine that no circumstances should be allow-
ed, by the light they afforded, to modify my conduct, lest I should
become the dupe of appearance, and the slave of passion. This
is a just and accurate image of every system of permanence.
Such systems are formed upon the idea of stopping the perpetual
motion of the machine, lest it should sometimes fall into disorder.
This consideration must sufficiently persuade an impartial
mind that, whatever inconveniences may arise from the passions
of men, the introduction of fixed laws cannot be the genuine
remedy. Let us consider what would be the operation and pro-
gressive state of these passions, provided men were trusted to the
guidance of their own discretion. Such is the discipline that a
reasonable state of society employs with respect to man in his
individual capacity:* why should it not be equally valid with
respect to men acting in a collective capacity ? Inexperience and
zeal would prompt me to restrain my neighbour whenever he is
acting wrong, and, by penalties and inconveniences designedly
interposed, to cure him of his errors. But reason evinces the
folly of this proceeding, and teaches me that, if he be not accus-
tomed to depend upon the energies of intellect, he will never rise
to the dignity of a rational being. As long as a man is held in
the trammels of obedience, and habituated to look to some
foreign guidance for the direction of his conduct, his understand-
ing and the vigour of his mind will sleep. Do I desire to raise
him to the energy of which he is capable ? I must teach him to
feel himself, to bow to no authority, to examine the principles he
entertains, and render to his mind the reason of his conduct.
The habits which are thus salutary to the individual, will be
equally salutary in the transactions of communities. Men are
weak at present, because they have always been told they are
weak, and must not be trusted with themselves. Take them out
of their shackles, bid them enquire, reason and judge, and you
will soon find them very different beings. Tell them that they
have passions, are occasionally hasty, intemperate and injurious,
but they must be trusted with themselves. Tell them that the
mountains of parchment in which they have been hitherto in-
trenched, are fit only to impose upon ages of superstition and
ignorance ; that henceforth we will have no dependence but upon
their spontaneous justice ; that, if their passions be gigantic, they
must rise with gigantic energy to subdue them ; that, if their
decrees be iniquitous, the iniquity shall be all their own. The
effect of this disposition of things will soon be visible ; mind will
rise to the level of its situation ; juries and umpires will be pene-
irated with the magnitude of the trust reposed in them.
It may be no uninstructive spectacle, to survey the progressive
establishment of justice in the state of things which is here recom-
* Book V., Chap. XX., p. 87.
OP LAW. 197
mended. At first, it may be, a few decisions will be made un-
commonly absurd or atrocious. But the authors of these decisions
will be confounded, with the unpopularity and disgrace in which
they have involved themselves. In reality, whatever was the
original source of law, it soon became cherished as a cloak for
oppression. Its obscurity was of use to mislead the inquisitive
eye of the sufferer. Its antiquity served to divert a considerable
part of the odium, from the perpetrator of the injustice, to the
author of the law ; and, still more, to disarm that odium by the
influence of superstitious awe. It was well knov/n that un-
varnished, barefaced oppression could not fail to be the victim of
its own operations.
To this statement it may indeed be objected, " that bodies of
men have often been found callous to censure, and that the dis-
grace, being amicably divided, is intolerable to none." In this
observation there is considerable force, but it is inapplicable to
the present argument. To this species of abuse one of two things
is indispensibly necessary, either numbers or secrecy. To this
abuse, therefore, it will be a sufficient remedy, that each jurisdic-
tion be considerably limited, and all transactions conducted in an
open and explicit manner. To proceed.
The juridical decisions that were made immediately after the
abolition of law, would differ little from those during its empire.
They would be the decisions of prejudice and habit. But habit,
having lost the centre about which it revolved, would diminish in
the regularity of its operations. Those to whom the arbitration
of any question was intrusted, would frequently recollect, that
the whole case was committed to their deliberation; and they
could not fail occasionally to examine themselves, respecting the
reason of those principles which had hitherto passed uncon-
troverted. Their understandings would grow enlarged, in pro-
portion as they felt the importance of their trust, and the
unbounded freedom of their investigation. Here, then, would
commence an auspicious order of things, of which no understand-
ing of man at present in existence can foretel the result, the
dethronement of implicit faith, and the inauguration of reason and
justice.
Some of the conclusions, of which this state of things would be
the harbinger, have been already seen in the judgment that would
be made of offences against the community.* Offences arguing
a boundless variety in the depravity from which they sprung,
would no longer be confounded under some general name. Juries
would grow as perspicacious in distinguishing, as they are now
indiscriminate in confounding, the merit of actions and cha-
racters.
The effects of the abolition of law, as it respects the article of
property, would not be less auspicious. Nothing can be more
worthy of regret, than the manner in which property is at
* Chap. IV. p. 168
198 OF PARDONS.
present administered, so far as relates to courts of justice. The
doubtfulness of titles, the different measures of legislation as they
relate to different classes of property, the tediousness of suits, and.
the removal of causes by appeal from court to court, are a per-
petual round of artifice and chicane to one part of the community,
and of anguish and misery to another. Who can describe the
baffled hopes, the fruitless years of expectation, which thus con-
sume away the strength and the lives of numerous individuals ?
In vain is the intention of a testator, while the disputes between
the legal and the testamentary heir, or a mere quibble upon the
phraseology of the bequest, shall supply food for endless con-
troversy. In vain shall be all the assurances I can heap together
for the establishment of my right, since the obscurity of records,
and the complexity of law, will, almost in all cases, enable an in-
genious man, who is at the same time a rich one, to dispute my
tenure. The imbecility of law is strikingly illustrated by the
vulgar maxim of the importance of possession. Possession could
not be thus advantageous, were it not for the opportunity that
law affords for procrastination and evasion. Property could not
be thus disputable, were the persons who are called upon to
decide concerning it, left to the direction of their own under-
standing. The contention of opposing claims arises more from
the jargon in which these claims are recorded, than from the com-
plexity of the subject to which they relate. The intention of a
testator is much more easily settled, than the quibbles to which
the expression of that intention may be subjected. Those who
were appointed for the decision of suits, would not indeed be such
gainers, under the system here delineated, as at present; but
every other description of persons that were interested in questions
of property, would, no doubt, find their advantage.
An observation which cannot have escaped the reader in the
perusal of this chapter, is, that law is merely relative to the exer-
cise of political force, and must perish when the necessity for that
force cease?, if the influence of truth do not still sooner extirpate
it from the practice of mankind*
CHAP. IX.
OF PARDONS.
Their absurdity. Their origin. Their abuses. Their arbitrary
character. Destructive of morality.
THERE is one other topic which belongs to the subject of the pre-
sent book, but which may be dismissed in a very few words,
because, though it has unhappily been, in almost all cases,
QJ PARDOKS. 199
neglected in practice, it is a point that seems to admit of uncom-
monly simple and irresistible evidence : I mean the topic of
pardons.
The very word, to a reflecting mind, is fraught with absurdity.
" What is the rule that ought, in all cases, to direct my conduct ?"
Surely justice ; understanding by justice the greatest utility of
the whole mass of beings that may be influenced by my conduct.
" What, then, is clemency ?" It can be nothing but the pitiable
egotism of him who imagines he can do something better than,
justice. " Is it right that I should suffer constraint for a certain
offence ?" The reasonableness of my suffering, must be founded
in its consonance with the general welfare. He, therefore, that
pardons me, iniquitously prefers the supposed interest of an indi-
vidual, and utterly neglects what he owes to the whole. He
bestows that which I ought not to receive, and which he has no
right to give. " Is it right, on the contrary, that I should not
undergo the suffering in question ? Will he, by rescuing me from
suffering, confer a benefit on me, and inflict no injury on others ?"
He will then be a notorious delinquent, if he allow me to suffer.
There is indeed a considerable defect in this last supposition. If,
while he benefits me, he inflicts no injury upon others, he is
infallibly performing a public service. If I suffered, in the
arbitrary manner which the supposition includes, the public would
sustain an unquestionable injury in the injustice that was perpe-
trated. And yet the man who prevents this odious injustice, has
been accustomed to arrogate to himself the attribute of clement,
and the apparently sublime, but, in reality, tyrannical, name of
forgiveness. For, if he do more than has been here described,
instead of glory, he ought to take shame to himself, as an enemy
to human kind. If every action, and especially every action in
which the happiness of a rational being is concerned, be suscepti-
ble of a certain rule, then caprice must be in all cases excluded :
there can be no action, which, if I neglect, I shall have
discharged my duty, and, if I perform, I shall be entitled to
applause.
The pernicious effect of the system of pardons, is peculiarly
glaring. It was first invented as the miserable supplement to a
sanguinary code, the atrociousness of which was so conspicuous,
that its ministers either dreaded the resistance of the people, if it
were indiscriminately executed, or themselves shrunk with un-
conquerable repugnance from the devastation it commanded.
The system of pardons obviously associates with the system of
law ; for, though we may call every case, for instance, in which
one man occasions the death of another, by the name of murder,
yet the injustice would be too great to apply to all cases the same
treatment. Define murder as accurately as we please, the same
consequence, the same disparity of cases, will obtrude itself. It
is necessary, therefore, to have a court of reason, to which the
decisions of a court of law shall^be brought for revisal.
But how is this court, inexpressibly more important than the
200 OF FARDOXS.
otlicr, to be constituted ? Here lies the essence of the matter ;
the rest is form. A jury is impannelled, to tell you the generical
name of the action ; a judge presides, to read out of the volume
of the law the prescription annexed to that name; last of all,
comes the court of inquiry, which is to decide whether the pre-
scription of the dispensatory is suitable to the circumstances of
this particular case. This authority we are accustomed to invest,
in the first instance with the judge, and in the last resort with the
king in council. Now, putting aside the propriety or impropriety
of this particular selection, there is one grievous abuse which
ought to strike the most superficial observer. These persons,
with whom the principal trust is reposed, consider their functions
in this respect, as a matter purely incidental, exercise them with
supineness, and, in many instances, with the most scanty mate-
rials to guide their judgment. This grows, in a considerable
degree, out of the very name of pardon, by which we are
accustomed to understand, a work of supererogatory benevo-
lence.
From the manner in which pardons are dispensed, inevitably
Rows the uncertainty of punishment. It is too evident that
punishment is inflicted by no certain rules, and therefore creates
no -uniformity of expectation. Uniformity of treatment, and con-
stancy of expectation, form the sole basis of a genuine morality.
In a just form of society, this would never go beyond the sober
expression of those sentiments of approbation or disapprobation,
with which different modes of conduct inevitably impress us.
But, if we at present exceed this line, it is surely an execrable
refinement of injustice, that should exhibit the perpetual menace
of suffering, unaccompanied with any certain rule foretelling its
application. Not more than one third of the offenders, whom the
law condemns to death in this metropolis, are made to suffer
the punishment that is awarded. Is it possible that each offender
should not flatter himself that he shall be among the number that
escapes ? Such a system, to speak it truly, is a lottery of death,
in which each man draws his ticket for reprieve or execution, as
undefinable accidents shall decide.
It may be asked whether " the abolition of law would not pro-
duce equal uncertainty ?" By no means. The principles of king
and council, in such cases, are very little understood, either by
themselves or others. The principles of a jury of his neighbours,
commissioned to pronounce upon the whole of the case, the
criminal easily guesses. He has only to appeal to his own senti-
ments and experience. Reason is a thousand times more
explicit and intelligible than law; and, when we were accustomed
to consult her, the certainty of her decisions would be such, as
men, practised in our present courts, are totally unable to
conceive.
Another important consequence grows out of the system of
rrdons. A system of pardons is a system of unmitigated slavery,
am taught to expect a certain desirable event, from what?
OF PARDONS. 201
From the clemency, the uncontroled, unmerited kindness of a
fellow mortal. Can any lesson be more degrading ? The pusil-
lanimous servility of the man, who devotes himself with everlast-
ing obsequiousness to another, because that other, having begun
to be unjust, relents in his career; the ardour with which he
confesses the equity of his sentence and the enormity of his
deserts, will constitute a tale, that future ages will find it difficult
to understand.
What are the sentiments in this respect that are alone worthy
of a rational being ? Give me that, and that only, which without
injustice you cannot refuse. More than justice it would be dis-
graceful for me to ask, and for you to bestow. I stand upon
ihe foundation of right. This is a title, which brute force may
refuse to acknowledge, but which all the force in the world
cannot annihilate. By resisting this plea, you may prove your-
self unjust ; but, in yielding to it, you grant me but my due. If,
all things considered", I be the fit subject of a benefit, the benefit
is merited ; merit, in any other sense, is contradictory and absurd.
If you bestow \ipon me unmerited advantage, you are a recreant
from the general good. I may be base enough to thank you ;
but, if I were virtuous, I should condemn you.
These sentiments alone are consistent with true independence
of mind. He that is accustomed to regard virtue as an affair of
favour and grace, cannot be eminently virtuous. If he occasion-
ally perform an action of apparent kindness, he will applaud the
generosity of his sentiments ; and, if he abstain, he will acquit
himself, with the question, " May I not do what I will with my
own ?" In the same manner, when he is treated benevolently
by another, he will in the first place, be unwilling to examine
strictly into the reasonableness of this treatment, because bene-
volence, as he imagines, is not subject to any inflexibility of rule ;
and, in the second place, he will not regard his benefactor with
that erect and unembarrassed mien, that manly sense of equality,
which is the only unequivocal basis of virtue and happiness.
202 OF PROPERTY.
BOOK VIII.
OF PROPERTY.
CHAP. I.
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
Importance of this topic. Plan for its discussion. Definition. Subject
of the present chapter of the next. Principle of decision stated.
Rights of man. Superfluities appreciated Love of distinction.
Direction which this passion is capable of receiving. Of merit mid
reward. System of popular morality on this subject. Its defects.
THE subject of property is the key-stone that completes the
fabric of political justice. According as our ideas respecting it
are crude or correct, they will enlighten us as to the consequences
of a simple form of society u-ithout government, and remove the
prejudices that attach us to complexity. There is nothing that
more powerfully tends to distort owe judgment and opinions, than
erroneous notions concerning the goods of fortune. Finally, the
period that must put an end to the system of coercion andjwwVi-
fticnt, is intimately connected with the circumstance of property's
being placed upon an equitable basis.
Various abuses of the most incontrovertible nature, have in-
sinuated themselves into the administration of property. Each
of these abuses might usefully be made the subject of a separate
investigation. We might enquire into the vexations of this sort,
that are produced by the dreams of national greatness, and the
sumptuousness of public offices and magistrates. This would lead
us to a just estimate of the different kinds of taxation, landed or
mercantile, having the necessaries or the luxuries of life for their
subject of operation. We might examine into the abuses which
have adhered to the commercial system ; monopolies, charters,
patents, protecting duties, prohibitions and bounties. We might
consider the claims of the church : first fruits and tithes. All
these disquisitions would tend to show the incalculable import-
ance of this subject. But, excluding them all from the present
enquiry, it shall be the business of what remains of this work, to
examine the subject in its most general principles, and by that
means endeavour to discover the source, not only of the abuses
above enumerated, but of others of innumerable kinds, too mul-
tifarious and subtle to enter into so brief a catalogue.
The subject to which the doctrine of property relates, is, all
OF PROPERTY. 203
those things which conduce, or may be conceived to conduce, to
the benefit or pleasure of man, and which can no otherwise be
applied to the use of one or more persons, than by a permanent
or temporary exclusion of the rest of the species. Such things in
particular are food, clothing, habitation and furniture.
Upon this subject two questions unavoidably arise. Who is
the person entitled to the use of any particular article of this
kind ? Who is the person, in whose hands the preservation and
distribution of any number cf these articles, will be most justly
and beneficially vested?
The answer to the first of these questions is easy, upon the
principles cf the present work. Justice has been proved to be a
rule applicable to all the concerns of man. Tt pronounces upon
every case that can arise, and leaves nothing to the disposal of a
momentary caprice.* There is not an article of the kinds above
specified, which will not ultimately be the instrument of more
benefit and happiness, in one individual mode of application, than
in any other that can be devised. This is the application it ought
to receive.
We are led to the consideration of that species of rights, which
was designedly postponed in an earlier division of this work.f
Every man has a right to that, the exclusive possession of which
being awarded to him, a greater sum of benefit or pleasure will
result, than could have arisen from its being otherwise appropri-
ated. This is the same principle as that just delivered, with a
slight variation of form. If man have a right to anything, he has
a right to justice. These terms, as they have ordinarily been
used in moral enquiry, are, strictly and properly speaking, con-
vertible terms.
Let us see how this principle will operate in the inferences it
authorises us to make. Human beings are partakers of a com-
mon nature ; what conduces to the benefit or pleasure of one man,
will conduce to the benefit or pleasure of another.]; Hence it
follows, upon the principles of equal and impartial justice, that
the good things of the world are a common stock, upon which
one man has as valid a title as another to draw for what he wants.
It appears in this respect, as formerly it appeared in the case of
our claim to the forbearance of each other, that each man kas a
sphere, the limit and termination of which is marked out, by the
equal sphere of his neighbour. I have a right to the means oi'
subsistence ; he has an equal right. I have a right to every plea-
sure I can participate without injury to myself or others; his
title, in this respect, is of similar extent.
This view of the subject will appear the more striking, if we
pass in review the good things of the world. They may be
divided into four classes ; subsistence ; the means of intellectual
Vol. I., Book II., Chap. II.
t Vol. I., Book II., Chap. V., p. 80.
* Vol. L, Book III., Chap. III., p. t.
Vol. I., Book II., Chap. V., 7'..
204 OF PROPERTY.
and moral improvement; unexpensive gratifications; and such
gratifications as are by no means essential to healthful and
vigorous existence, and cannot be purchased but with consider-
able labour and industry. It is the last class principally that
interposes an obstacle in the way of equal distribution. It will
be matter of after-consideration how far and how many articles
of this class would be admissible into the purest mode of social
existence.* But, in the meantime, it is unavoidable to remark
the inferiority of this class to the three preceding. Without it
we may enjoy to a great extent, activity, contentment and cheer-
fulness. And in what manner are these seeming superfluities
usually procured ? By abridging multitudes of men, to a deplor-
able degree, in points of essential moment, that one man may be
accommodated with sumptuous, yet strictly considered, insignifi-
cant luxuries. Supposing the alternative could fairly be brought
home to a man, and it could depend upon his instant decision, by
the sacrifice of these to give to five hundred of his fellow beings
leisure, independence, conscious dignity, and whatever can refine
and enlarge the human understanding, it is difficult to conceive
him to hesitate. But, though this alternative cannot be produced
in the case of an individual, it will perhaps be found to be the
true alternative, when taken at once in reference to the species.
To the forming a just estimate of costly gratifications, it is
necessary, that we should abstract the direct pleasure, on the one
hand, from the pleasure they afford us, only as instruments for
satisfying our love of distinction. It must be admitted in every
system of morality, not tainted with monastic prejudices, but
adapted to the nature of intelligent beings, that, so far as relates
to ourselves, and leaving our connection with the species out of
the consideration, we ought not to refuse any pleasure, except as
it tends to the exclusion of some greater pleasure. f But it has
already been shown, that the difference in the pleasures of the
palate, between a simple and wholesome diet on the one hand,
and all the complexities of the most splendid table on the other, is
so small, that few men would even think it worth the tedium that
attends upon a change of services, if the pleasure of the palate
were the only thing in question, and they had no spectator to
admire their magnificence. " He who should form himself, with
the greatest care, upon a system of solitary sensualism, would
probably come at last to a decision, not very different from that
which Epicurus is said to have adopted, in favour of fresh herbs,
and water from the spring."! The same observation applies to
the splendour of furniture, equipage and dress. So far as relates
to the gratification of the eye, this pleasure may be reaped, with
less trouble, and in greater refinement, from the beauties which
nature exhibits to our observation. No man, if the direct plea-
Chap. VII.
+ Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. XL, p. 210.
$ Vol. I., Book I., Chap. V., p. 33, 34.
OP PROPERTY. 205
sure were the only thing in consideration, would think the dif-
ference to himself worth purchasing by the oppression of multi-
tudes.
But these things, though trivial in themselves, are highly
prized, from that love of distinction which is characteristic of
every human mind. The creditable artisan or tradesman
exerts a certain species of industry to supply his immediate
wants. But these are soon supplied. The rest is exerted, that
he may wear a better coat, that he may clothe his wife with gay
attire, that he may have not merely a shelter, but a handsome
habitation, not merely bread and flesh to eat, but that he may set
it out with suitable decorum. How many of these things would
engage his attention, if he lived in a desert island, and had no
spectator of his economy ? If we survey the appendages of our
persons, there is scarcely an article that is not in some respect an
appeal to the good will of our neighbours, or a refuge against
their contempt. It is for this that the merchant braves the perils
of the ocean, and the mechanical inventor brings forth the trea-
sures of his meditation. The soldier advances even to the can-
non's mouth, and the statesman exposes himself to the rage of an
indignant people, because he cannot bear to pass through life
without distinction and esteem. Exclusively of certain higher
motives which will hereafter be mentioned,* this is the purpose
of all the great exertions of mankind. The man who has nothing
to provide for but his animal wants, scarcely ever shakes off the
lethargy of his mind ; but the love of honour hurries us on to the
most incredible achievements.
It must be admitted indeed, that the love of distinction ap-
pears, from experience and the past history of mankind, to have
been their ruling passion. But the love. of distinction is capably
of different directions. At present, there is no more certain road
to die general deference of mankind, than the exhibition of
wealth. The poet, the wit, the orator, the saviour of his country,
and the ornament of his species, may upon certain occasions be
treated with neglect and biting contempt ; but the man who pos-
sesses and disburses money in profusion, can scarcely fail to pro-
cure the attendance of the obsequious man and the flatterer. But
let us conceive this erroneous and pernicious estimate of things
to be reversed. Let us suppose the avaricious man, who is de-
sirous of monopolising the means of happiness, and the luxurious
man, who expends without limitation, in pampering his appetites,
that which, in strict justice, is the right of another, to be contem-
plated with as much disapprobation, as they are now beheld by a
mistaken world with deference and respect. Let us imagine the
direct and unambiguous road to public esteem, to be the acqui-
sition of talent, or the practice of virtue, the cultivation of some
species of ingenuity, or the display of some generous and expan-
sive sentiment ; and that the persons who possess these talents
* Chtip. VI.
206 OF PROPERTY.
were as conspicuously treated with affection and esteem, as the
wealthy are now treated with slavish attention. This is merely,
in other words, to suppose good sense, and clear and correct per-
ceptions, at some time to gain the ascendancy in the world. But
it is plain that, under the reign of such sentiments, the allure-
ments that now wait upon costly gratification, woxild be, for the
most part, annihilated. If, through the spurious and incidental
recommendations it derives from the love of distinction, it is now
rendered to many a principal source of agreeable sensation, under
a different state of opinion, it would not merely be reduced to its
intrinsic value in point of sensation, but, in addition to this, would
be connected with ideas of injustice, unpopularity, and dislike.
So small is the space which costly gratifications are calculated un-
alterably to fill, in the catalogue of human happiness.
It has sometimes been alleged, as an argument against the
equal rights of men in the point of which we are treating, " that
the merits of men are different, and ought to be differently
rewarded." But it may be questioned whether this proposition,
though true, can with any show of plausibility be applied to the
present subject. Reasons have been already suggested to prove,
that positive institutions do not afford the best means for reward-
ing virtue, and that human excellence will be more effectually
forwarded, by those encouragements which inevitably arise from
the system of the universe.* But, exclusively of this considera-
tion, let us recollect, upon the grounds of what has just been
stated, what sort of reward is thus proposed to exertion. " If
you show yourself deserving, you shall have the essence of a
hundred times more food than you can eat, and a hundred times
more clothes than you can wear. You shall have a patent for
taking away from others the means of a happy and respectable
existence, and for consuming them in riotous and unmeaning
extravagance." Is this the reward that ought to be offered to
virtue, or that virtue should stoop to take ?
The doctrine of the injustice of accumulated property has
been the foundation of all religious morality. Its most energetic
teachers have been irresistibly led to assert the precise truth in
this respect. They have taught the rich that they hold their
wealth only as a trust, that they are strictly accountable for every
atom of their expenditure, that they are merely administrators,
and by no means proprietors in chief. f But, while religion thus
inculcated on mankind the pure principles of justice, the majority
of its professors have been but too apt to treat the practice of jus-
tice not as a debt, which it ought to be considered, but as an affair
of spontaneous generosity and bounty.
The effect which is produced by this accommodating doctrine
is, to place the supply of our wants in the disposal of a few, en-
abling them to make a show of generosity with what is not truly
* Book V., Chap. XII. ; Book VI. Chap. I.
t MARK, CHAP, x., ver. 21 : ACTS, CHAP, ii., ver. 44, 45. See also Swift's
Sermon on Mutual Subjection.
PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY. 207
their own, and to purchase the submission of the poor by the pay-
ment of a debt. Theirs is a system of clemency and charity,
instead of a system of justice. It fills the rich with unreasonable
pride, by the spurious denominations with which it decorates
their acts ; and the poor with servility, by leading them to regard
the slender comforts they obtain, not as their incontrovertible
due, but as the good pleasure and grace of their opulent
neighbours.
CHAP. II.
PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY.
Definition. Degrees of property 1. in the means of subsistence and
happiness 2. in the fruits of our labour 3. in the labour of others.
Unfavourable features of this species of property. Ground of obli-
gation respecting it. Origin of property of inheritance and testa-
tion Instances of gratuitous inequality, Legislation of titles.
Limitations on the preceding reasoning. Sacredness of property.
Conclusion.
HAVING considered at large the question of the person entitled to
the use of the means of benefit or pleasure, it is time that we
proceed to the second question of the person, in whose hands the
preservation and distribution of any of these means will be most
justly and beneficially vested. An interval must inevitably occur,
between the production of any commodity, and its consumption.
Those things which are necessary for the accommodation of man
in society, cannot be obtained without the labour of man.
When fit. for his use, they do not admit of being left at random,
but require that some care and vigilance should be exerted to
preserve them, for the period of actual consumption. They will
not, in the first instance, fall into the possession of each indi-
vidual, in the precise proportion necessary for his consumption.
Who then is to be the factor or warehouseman, that is to watch
over their preservation, and preside at their distribution ?
This is strictly speaking the question of property. We do not
call the person who accidentally takes his dinner at my table, the
proprietor of what he eats, though it is he, in the direct and
obvious sense, who receives the benefit of it. Property implies
some permanence of external possession, and includes in it the
idea of a possible competitor.
Of property there are three degrees.
The first and simplest degree is that of my permanent right in
those things, the use of which being attributed to me, a greater
sum of benefit or pleasure will result, than could have arisen
208 PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY.
from their being otherwise appropriated. It is of no consequence
in this case, how I came into possession of them, the only neces-
sary conditions being their superior usefulness to me, and that
my title to them is such as is generally acquiesced in by the com-
munity in which I live. Every man is unjust who conducts him-
self in such a manner respecting these things, as to infringe, in
any degree, upon my power of using them, at the time when the
using them will be of real importance to me.
It has already appeared* that one of the most essential of the
rights of man, is my right to the forbearance of others; not
merely that they shall refrain from every thing that may, by
direct consequence, affect my life, or the possession of my powers,
but that they shall refrain from usurping upon my understanding,
and shall leave me a certain equal sphere for the exercise of my
private judgment. This is necessary, because it is possible for
them to be wrong, as well as for me to be so, because the exercise
of the understanding is essential to the improvement of man,
and because the pain and interruption I suffer are as real, when
they infringe, in my conception only, upon Avhat is of importance
to me, as if the infringement had been in the utmost degree
palpable. Hence it follows, that no man may, in ordinary cases,
make use of my apartment, furniture, or garments, or of my
food, in the way of barter or loan, without having first obtained
my consent.
The second degree of property is, the empire to which every
man is entitled, over the produce of his own industry, even that
part of it the use of which ought not to be appropriated to him-
self. It has been repeatedly shown that all the rights of man
which are of this description, are passive.f He has no right of
option in the disposal of any thing which may fall into his hands.
Every shilling of his property, and even every, the minutest,
exertion of his powers, have received their destination from the
decrees of justice. He is only the steward. But still he is the
steward. These tilings must be trusted to his award, checked
only by the censorial power that is vested, in the general sense,
and favourable or unfavourable opinion of that portion of man-
kind among whom he resides. Man is changed from the capable
subject of illimitable excellence, into the vilest and most despic-
able thing that imagination can conceive, when he is restrained
from acting upon the dictates of his understanding. All men
cannot individually be entitled to exercise compulsion on each
other, for this would produce universal anarchy. All men cannot
collectively be entitled to exercise unbounded compulsion, for
this would produce universal slavery : the interference of govern-
ment, however impartially vested, is, no doubt, only to be resorted
to upon occasions of rare occurrence, and indispensible urgency.
It will readily be perceived, that this second species of property
is in a less rigorous sense fundamental than the rest. It is, iu one
* Vol. I., Book II., Chap. V., VI. t Vol. I., Book II., Chap. V.
PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY. 209
point of view, a sort of usurpation. It vests in me the preserva-
tion and dispensing of that which, in point of complete and ab-
solute right, belongs to you.
The third degree of property is, that which occupies the most
vigilant attention in the civilised states of Europe. It is a system,
in whatever manner established, by which one man enters into
the faculty of disposing of the produce of another man's in-
dustry. There is scarcely any species of wealth, expenditure, or
splendour existing in any civilised country, that is not, in some
way, produced by the express manual labour and corporal in-
dustry of the inhabitants of that country. The spontaneous pro-
ductions of the earth are few, and contribute little to wealth,
expenditure, or splendour. Every man may calculate, in every
glass of wine he drinks, and every ornament he annexes to his
person, how many individuals have been condemned to slavery
and sweat, incessant drudgery, unwholesome food, continual
hardships, deplorable ignorance, and brutal insensibility, that he
may be supplied with these luxuries. It is a gross imposition
that men are accustomed to put upon themselves, when they talk
'of the property bequeathed to them by their ancestors. The pro-
perty is produced by the daily labour of men who are now in
existence. All that their ancestors bequeathed to them was a
mouldy patent, which they show, as a title to extort from their
neighbours what the labour of those neighbours has produced.
It is clear therefore that the third species of property is in
direct contradiction to the second.
The most desirable state of human society would require, that
the quantity of manual labour and corporal industry to be exerted,
and particularly that part of it which is not the uninfluenced
choice of our own judgment, but is imposed upon each individual
by the necessity of his affairs, should be reduced within as narrow
limits as possible. For any man to enjoy the most trivial accom-
modation, while, at the same time, a similar accommodation is
not accessible to every other member of the community, is, abso-
lutely speaking, wrong. All refinements of luxury, all inventions
that tend to give employment to a great number of labouring
hands, are directly adverse to the propagation of happiness.
Every additional tax that is laid on, every new channel that is
opened for the expenditure of the public money, unless it be com-
pensated (which is scarcely ever the case) by an equivalent de-
duction from the luxuries of the rich, is so much added to the
general stock of ignorance, drudgery and hardship. The country-
gentleman who, by levelling an eminence, or introducing a sheet
of water into his park, finds work for hundreds of industrious
poor, is the enemy, and not, as has commonly been imagined, the
friend, of his specieo. Let us suppose that, in any country, there
is now ten times as much industry and manual labour, as there
was three centuries ago. Except so far as this is applied to
maintain an increased population, it is expended in the more
costly indulgences of the rich. Very little indeed is employed to
29. VOL. ii. p
210 PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY.
increase the happiness or conveniences of the poor. They barely
subsist at present, and they did as much at the remoter period of
which we speak. Those who, by fraud or force, have usurped
the power of buying and selling the labour of the great mass of
the community, are sufficiently disposed to take care that they
should never do more than subsist. An object of industry added
to or taken from the general stock, produces a momentary differ-
ence, but things speedily fall back into their former state. If
every labouring inhabitant of Great Britain were able and willing
to-day to double the quantity of his industry, for a short time he
would derive some advantage from the increased stock of com-
modities produced. But the rich would speedily discover the
means of monopolising this produce, as they had done the former.
A small part of it only, could consist in commodities essential to
the subsistence of man, or be fairly distributed through the com-
munity. All that is luxury and superfluity, would increase the
accommodations of the rich, and perhaps, by reducing the price
of luxuries, augment the number of those to whom such accom-
modations were accessible. But it would afford no alleviation to
the great mass of the community. Its more favoured members
would give their inferiors no greater wages for twenty hours'
labour, suppose, than they do for ten.
What reason is there then that this species of property should
be respected ? Because, ill as the system is, it will perhaps be
found, that it is better than any other, which, by any means, ex-
cept those of reason, the love of distinction, or the love of justice,
can be substituted in its place. It is not easy to say whether
misery or absurdity would be most conspicuous, in a plan which
should invite every man to seize upon every thing he conceived
himself to want. If, by positive institution, the property of every
man were equalised to-day, without a contemporary change in
men's dispositions and sentiments, it would become unequal to-
morrow. The same evils would spring up with a rapid growth ;
and we should have gained nothing, by a project, which, while
it violated every man's habits, and many men's inclinations,
would render thousands miserable. We have already shewn,*
and shall have occasion to show more at large, f how pernicious
the consequences would be, if government were to take the
whole permanently into their hands, and dispense to every man
his daily bread. It may even be suspected that agrarian laws,
and others of a similar tendency, which have been invented for
the purpose of keeping down the spirit of accumulation, deserve
to be regarded, as remedies, more pernicious, than the disease
they are intended to cure.J
An interesting question suggests itself in this stage of the dis-
cussion. How far is the idea of property to be considered as the
offspring of positive institution ? The decision of this question,
Book VI., Chap. Vin., p. 144. t Chap. VIII.
* Book VI., Chap. I., p. 105.
PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY. 211
may prove extremely essential to the point upon which we are
engaged. The ragvlftftioa of property by positive laws, may be a
very exceptionable means of reforming its present inequality, at
the same that an equal objection may by no means lie against a
proceeding, the object of which shall be merely to supersede
positive laws, or such positive laws as are peculiarly exceptionable.
In pursuing this enquiry, it is necessary to institute a distinction,
between such positive laws, or established practices (which are
often found little less efficacious than laws,) as are peculiar to
certain ages and countries, and such laws or practices, as are
common to all civilised communities, and may therefore be per-
haps interwoven with the existence of society.
The idea of property, or permanent empire, in those things
which ought to be applied to our personal use, and still more in
the produce of our industry, unavoidably suggests the idea of
some species of law or practice by which it is guaranteed. With-
out this, property could not exist. Yet we have endeavoured to
show, that the maintenance of these two kinds of property, is
highly beneficial. Let us consider the consequences that grow
out of this position.
Every man should be urged to the performance of his duty, as
much as possible, by the instigations of reason alone.* Com-
pulsion to be exercised by one human being over another, whether
individually, or in the name of the community, if in any case to
be resorted to, is at least to be resorted to only in cases of indis-
pensible urgency. It is not therefore to be called in, for the pur-
pose of causing one individual to exert a little more, or another
a little less, of productive industry. Neither is it to be called in,
for the purpose of causing the industrious individual to make the
Secise distribution of his produce which he ought to make,
ence it follows that, while the present erroneous opinions and
prejudices respecting accumulation continue, actual accumulation
will, in some degree, take place.
For, let it be observed that, not only no well informed com-
munity will interfere with the quantity of any man's industry, or
the disposal of its produce, but the members of every such well
informed community will exert themselves, to turn aside the pur-
pose of any man who shall be inclined to dictate to, or restrain,
his neighbour in this respect.
The most destructive of all excesses, is that, where one man
shall dictate to another, or undertake to compel him to do, or re-
frain from doing, anything (except, as was before stated, in cases
of the most indispensible urgency,) otherwise than with his own
consent. Hence it follows that the distribution of wealth in every
community, must be left to depend upon the sentiments of the
individuals of that community. If, in any society, weallh be
estimated at its true value, and accumulation and monopoly be
regarded as the seals of mischief, injustice and dishonour, instead
Vol L, Book II., Chap. VI. : Book \1I., passim.
212 PRINCIPLES OF PliOPERTY.
of being treated as titles to attention and deference, in that society
the accommodations of human life will tend to their level, and
the inequality of conditions will be destroyed.* A revolution of
opinions is the only means of attaining to this inestimable benefit.
Every attempt to effect this purpose by means of regulation, will
probably be found ill conceived and abortive. Be this as it will,
every attempt to correct the distribution of wealth by individual
violence, is certainly to be regarded as hostile to the first princi-
ples of public security.
If one individual, by means of greater ingenuity or more inde-
fatigable industry, obtain a greater proportion of the necessaries
or conveniences of life than his neighbour, and, having obtained
them, determine to convert them into the means of permanent
inequality, this proceeding is not of a sort that it would be just or
wise to undertake to repress by means of coercion. If, inequality
being thus introduced, the poorer member of the community
shall be so depraved as to be willing, or so unfortunately circum-
stanced as to be driven, to make himself the hired servant or la-
bourer of his richer neighbour, this probably is not an evil to be
corrected by the interposition of government. But, when we
have gained this step, it will be difficult to set bounds to the extent
of accumulation in one man, or of poverty and wretchedness in
another.
It has already appeared, that reason requires that no man shall
endeavour, by individual violence, to correct this inequality.
Reason would probably, in a well ordered community, be suffi-
cient to restrain men from the attempt so to correct it. Where
society existed in the simplicity which has formerly been de-
scribed, f accumulation itself would be restrained, by the very
means that restrained depredation, the good sense of the com-
munity, and the inspection of all exercised upon all. Violence
therefore would, on the one hand, have little to tempt it, as, on
the other, it would be incessantly and irresistibly repressed.
But, if reason prove insufficient for this fundamental purpose,
other means must doubtless be employed.]: It is better that one
man should suffer, than that the community should be destroyed.
General security is one of those indispensible preliminaries, with-
out which nothing good or excellent can be accomplished. It is
therefore right that property, with all its inequalities, such as it is
sanctioned by the general sense of the members of any state, and
-so long as that sanction continues unvaried should be defended,
if need be, by means of coercion.
We have already endeavoured to show, that coercion would
probably, in no case, be necessary, but for the injudicious magni-
tude and complication of political societies. In a general and
absolute sense, therefore, it cannot be vindicated. But there arc
duties incumbent upon us, of a temporary and local nature ; and
* Chap. I., p. 205. t Book V., Chap. XXIY. * Book TIL, Chap. V.
I Book TIL, Chap. V.
PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY. 213
we may occasionally be required, by the pressure of circum-
stances, to suspend and contravene principles, the most sound in
their general nature.* Till men shall be persuaded to part with
the ideas of a complicated government and an extensive territory,
coercion will be necessary, as an expedient to counteract the
most imminent evils. There are however various reasons, that
would incline a just man to confine the province of coercion
within the severest limits. It is never to be regarded but as a
temporary expedient, the necessity of having recourse to which
is deeply to be regretted. It is an expedient, protecting one in-
justice, the accumulation of property, for the sake of keeping out
another evil, still more formidable and destructive. Lastly, it is
to be considered that this injustice, the unequal distribution of
property, the grasping and selfish spirit of individuals, is to be
regarded as one of the original sources of government, and, as it
rises in its excesses, is continually demanding and necessitating
new injustice, new penalties, and new slavery.
Thus far then it should seem the system of coercion must be
permitted to extend. We should set bounds to no man's accumula-
tion. We should repress by wise and effectual, yet moderate and
humane, penalties, all forcible invasion to be committed by one
man upon the acquisitions of another. But it may be asked, are
there not various laws or practices, established among civilised
nations, which do not, like these we have described, stop at the
toleration of unequal property, but which operate to its immediate
encouragement, and to the rendering this inequality still wider
and more oppressive ?
What are we to conceive in this respect of the protection given
to inheritance, and testamentary bequest ? " There is no merit
in being born the son of a rich man, rather than of a poor one,
that should jxistify us, in raising this man to affluence, and con-
demning that to invincible depression. Surely," we might be
apt to exclaim, " it is enough to maintain men in their usurpation
[for let it never be forgotten that accumulated property is usur-
pation,] during the term of their lives. It is the most extrava-
gant fiction, which would enlarge the empire of the proprietor
beyond his natural existence, and enable him to dispose of events,
when he is himself no longer in the world."
The arguments however that may be offered, in favour of the
protection given to inheritance and testamentary bequest, are
more forcible, than might at first be imagined. We have at-
tempted to show, that men ought to be protected, in the disposal
of the property they have personally acquired ; in expending it,
in the necessaries they require, or the luxuries in which they
think proper to indulge ; in transferring it, in such portions, as
justice shall dictate, or their erroneous judgment suggest. To
attempt therefore to take the disposal out of their hands, at the
period of their decease, would be an abortive and pernicious pro-
* Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. VI., App. No. I.
214 PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY.
ject. If we prevented them from bestowing it in the open and
explicit mode of bequest, we could not prevent them from trans-
ferring it before the close of their lives, and we should open a
door to vexatious and perpetual litigation. Most persons would
be inclined to bestow their property, after the period of their
lives, upon their children or nearest relatives. Where therefore
they have failed to express their sentiments in this respect, it is
reasonable to presume what they would have been ; and this dis-
posal of the property on the part of the community, is the mildest,
and therefore the most justifiable, interference. Where they have
expressed a capricious partiality, this iniquity also is, in most
cases, to be protected, because, for the reasons above assigned, it
cannot be prevented, without exposing us to still greater iniquities.
But, though it may possibly be true, that inheritance, and the
privilege of testation, are necessary consequences of the system
of property, in a community the members of which are involved
in prejudice and ignorance, it will not be difficult to find the
instances, in every polished country of Europe, in which civil in-
stitution, instead of granting, to the inequalities of accumulation,
only what could not prudently be withheld, has exerted itself, for
the express purpose of rendering these inequalities greater and
more oppressive. Such instances are, the feudal system, and the
system of ranks, seignorial duties, fines, conveyances, entails, the
distinction in landed property, of freehold, copyhold and manor,
the establishment of vassalage, and the claim of primogeniture.
We here distinctly recognise the policy of men who, having first
gained a superiority, by means of the inevitable openings before
cited, having made use of this superiority, for the purpose of con-
spiring to monopolise whatever their rapacity could seize, in direct
opposition to every dictate of the general interest. These articles
fall under the distinction, brought forward in the outset,* of laws
or practices not common to all civilised communities, but peculiar
to certain ages and countries.
It should seem, therefore, that these are institutions, the aboli-
tion of which is not to be entirely trusted to the silent hostility of
opinion, but that they are to be abrogated by the express and posi-
tive decision of the community. For their abrogation, it is not ne-
cessary, that any law or regulation should be promulgated, an
operation which, to say the least, should always be regarded with
extreme jealousy. Property, under every form it can assume, is
upheld by the direct interference of institution ; and that species
which we at present contemplate, must inevitably perish, the
moment the protection of the state is withdrawn. Of the intro-
duction of new regulations of whatever description, it becomes
the friend of man to be jealous ; but we may allow ourselves to
regard with a more friendly eye, a proceeding which consists
merely in their abolition.
The conclusion however in this instance, must not be pushed
* P. 211.
PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY. 215
further, than the premises will justify. The articles enumerated,
will perhaps, all of them, be fouud to tally with the condition
annexed ; they depend for their existence, upon the positive pro-
tection of the state. But there are particulars which have grown
up under their countenance, that are of a different sort. Such,
for instance, are titles, armorial bearings and liveries. If the
community refuse to countenance feudal and seignorial claims,
and the other substantial privileges of an aristocracy, they must
inevitably cease. But the case is different in the instances last
cited. It is one thing to abolish a law, or refuse to persist in a
practice that is made the engine of tyranny ; and a thing of a
totally different sort, by a positive law to prohibit actions, how-
ever irrational, by which no man's security is directly invaded.
It should seem unjustifiable to endeavour, by penalties, to deter a
a man from calling himself by any name, or attiring himself or
others, with their own consent, in any manner, he thinks proper.
Not that these things are, as they have sometimes been repre-
sented, in their own nature trivial. We have endeavoured to
prove the reverse of this.* They ought to be assailed with every
weapon of argument and ridicule. In an enlightened community,
the man who assumes to himself a pompous appellation, will be
considered as a fool or a madman. But fulminations and penal-
ties are not the proper instruments to repress an ecstacy of this
sort.
There is another circumstance necessary to be stated, by way
of qualification to the preceding conclusion. Evils often exist in
a community, which, though mere excrescences at first, at length
become so incorporated with the principle of social existence,
that they cannot suddenly be separated, without the risk of in-
volving the most dreadful calamities. Feudal rights, and the
privileges of rank, are, in themselves considered, entitled to no
quarter. The inequalities of property perhaps constituted a state,
through which it was at least necessary for us to pass, and which,
constituted the true original excitement to the unfolding the
powers of the human mind.f But it would be difficult to show,
that feudality and aristocracy ever produced an overbalance of
good. Yet, were they to be suddenly and instantly abolished,
two evils would necessarily follow. First, the abrupt reduction
of thousands to a condition, the reverse of that to which they had
hitherto been accustomed, a condition, perhaps the most auspici-
ous to human talent and felicity, but for which habit had wholly
unfitted them, and which would be to them a continual source of
dejection and suffering. It may be doubted, whether the genuine
cause of reform, ever demands, that, in its name, we should sen-
tence whole classes of men to wretchedness. Secondly, an at-
tempt abruptly to abolish practices, which had originally no
apology to plead for their introduction, would be attended with
as dreadful convulsions, and as melancholy a series of public
Book V., Chap. XII. t Chap. VII.
216 PRINCIPLES OF PROPERTY.
calamities, as an attack upon the first principles of society itself.
All the reasonings therefore, which were formerly adduced under
the head of revolutions,* are applicable to the present case.
Having now accomplished what was last proposed,f and en-
deavoured to ascertain in what particulars the present system of
property is to be considered as the capricious offspring of positive
institution, let us return to the point which led us to that enquiry,
the question concerning the degree of respect to which property
in general is entitled. And here it is only necessary that we
should recollect the principle in which the doctrine of property
is founded, the sacred and indefeasible right of private judgment.
There are but two objects for which government can rationally
be conceived to have been originated: first, as a treasury of public
wisdom, by which individuals might, in all cases, with advantage
"be directed, and which might actively lead us, with greater cer-
tainty, in the path of happiness : or, secondly, instead of being
forward to act itself as an umpire, that the community might fill
the humbler office of guardian of the rights of private judgment,
and never interpose, but when one man appeared, in this respect,
alarmingly to encroach upon another. All the arguments of this
work have tended to show that the latter, and not the former, is
the true end of civil institution. The first idea of property then,
is a deduction from the right of private judgment ; the first object
of government, is the preservation of this right. Without per-
mitting to every man, to a considerable degree, the exercise of
his own discretion, there can be no independence, no improve-
ment, no virtue and no happiness. This is a privilege in the
highest degree sacred; for its maintenance, no exertions and
sacrifices can be too great. Thus deep is the foundation of the
doctrine of property. It is, in the last resort, the palladium of
all that ought to be dear to us, and must never be approached but
with awe and veneration. He that seeks to loosen the hold of
this principle upon our minds, and that would lead us to sanction
any exceptions to it without the most deliberate and impartial
consideration, however right may be his intentions, is, in that
instance, an enemy to the whole. A condition indispensibly
necessary to every species of excellence, is security. Unless I
can forsee, in a considerable degree, the treatment I shall receive
from my species, and am able to predict, to a certain extent, what
will be the limits of their irregularity and caprice, I can engage
in no valuable undertaking. Civil society maintains a greater
proportion of security among men than can be found in the
savage state : this is one of the reasons why, under the shade of
civil society, arts have been invented, sciences perfected, and the
nature of man, in his individual and relative capacity, gradually
developed.
One observation it seems proper to add to the present chapter.
We have maintained^ the equal rights of men, that each man
* Vol. L, Book IV.. Chap. II. t P. 210. j Chap. I.
PRINCIPLES OP PROPERTY. 217
has a perfect claim upon every thing, the possession of which will
be productive of more benefit to him, than injury to another.
"Has he then," it will be asked, "a right to take it? If not,
what sort of right is that, which the person in whom it vests, is
not entitled to enforce ?"
The difficulty here is in appearance, and not in reality. The
feature, specified in the present instance, adheres to every depart-
ment of right. It is right, that my actions should be governed by
the dictates of my own judgment ; and every man is an intruder,
who endeavours to compel me to act by his judgment, instead of
my own. But it does not follow, that I shall always do wisely or
well, in undertaking to repel his intrusion by force. Persuasion,
and not force, is the legitimate instrument for influencing the
human mind ; and I shall never be justifiable in having recourse
to the latter, while there is any rational hope of succeeding by
the former. Add to which, the criterion of morals is utility.
When it has once been determined, that my being constituted
the possessor of a certain article will be beneficial, it does not
follow that my attempting, or even succeeding, violently to put
myself in possession of it, will be attended with a beneficial
result. If I were quietly installed, it may be unquestionable
that that would be an absolute benefit ; and yet it may be true,
that my endeavours to put myself in possession, whether effectual
or ineffectual, will be attended with worse consequences, than all
the good that would follow from right being done as to the object
itself. The doctrine of rights, has no rational or legitimate con-
nexion with the practice of tumult.
But though I may not, consistently with rectitude, attempt to
put myself in possession of many things which it is right I should
have, yet this sort of right is by no means futile and nugatory.
It may prove to be a great truth, resting upon irresistible evi-
dence, and may, in that case, be expected to make hourly pro-
gress in the convictions of mankind. If it be true, it is an
interesting truth, and may therefore be expected to germinate in
the mind, and produce corresponding effects upon the conduct.
It may appear to be a truth of that nature, which is accustomed
to sink deep in the human understanding, insensibly to mix
itself with all our reasonings, and ultimately to produce, without
shadow of violence, the most complete revolution in the maxims
of civil society.
218 BENEFITS ATTENDANT ON
CHAP. III.
BENEFITS ATTENDANT ON A SYSTEM OF EQUALITY.
Contrasted with the mischiefs of' the present system 1. a sense of de-
pendence. 2. the perpetual spectacle of injustice, leading men astray
in their desires and perverting the integrity of their judgments.
The rich are the true pensioners. 3. the discouragement of intel-
lectual attainments. 4. the multiplication of vice generating the
crimes of the poor the passions of the rich and the misfortunes of
ivar, 5. depopulation.
HAVING seen the justice of an equal distribution of the good
things of life, let us next proceed to consider in detail, the bene-
fits with which it would be attended. And here with grief it
must be confessed, that however great and extensive are the evils
that are produced by monarchies and courts,* by the imposture
of priests f and the iniquity of criminal laws,! all these are im-
becile and impotent, compared with the evils that arise out of the
established administration of property.
Its first effect is that we have already mentioned, a sense of
dependence. It is true that courts are mean-spirited, intriguing,
and servile, and that this disposition is transferred by contagion
from them to all ranks of society. But accumulation brings
home a servile and truckling spirit, by no circuitous method, to
every house in the nation. Observe the pauper fawning with ab-
ject vileness upon his rich benefactor, speechless with sensations
of gratitude, for having received that which he ought to have
claimed, not indeed with arrogance, or a dictatorial and overbear-
ing temper, but with the spirit of a man discussing with a man,
and resting his cause only on the justice of his claim. Observe
the servants that follow in a rich man's train, watchful of his
looks, anticipating his commands, not daring to reply to his
insolence, all their time and their efforts under the direction of
his caprice. Observe the tradesman, how he studies the passions
of his customers, not to correct, but to pamper them, the vileness
of his flattery and the systematical constancy with which he ex-
aggerates the merit of his commodities. Observe the practices
of a popular election, where the great mass are purchased by ob-
eequiousness, by intemperance and bribery, or driven by unmanly
threats of poverty and persecution. Indeed "the age of chivalry
is" not " gone !''|| The feudal spirit still survives, that reduced
the great mass of mankind to the rank of slaves and cattle, for
the service of a few.
We have heard much of visionary and theoretical improve-
* Book V. t Book VI. i Book VII.
5 Chap. I., p, 206. || Burke's Reflections.
A SYSTEM OF EQUALITY. 219
ments. It would indeed be visionary to expect integrity from
mankind, while they are thus subjected to hourly corruption, and
bred, from father to son, to sell their independence and their con-
science, for the vile rewards that oppression has to bestow. No
man can be either useful to others or happy in himself, who is a
stranger to the grace of firmness, or who is not habituated to pre-
fer the dictates of his own understanding, to the tyranny of com-
mand, and the allurements of temptation. Here again, as upon
a former occasion,* religion comes in to illustrate our thesis.
Religion was the generous ebullition of men, who let their ima-
. gmation loose on the grandest subjects, and wandered without re-
straint in the unbounded field of enquiry: It is not to be
wondered at, therefore, if they brought home imperfect ideas of
the sublimest views that intellect can furnish. In this instance,
religion teaches that the pure perfection of man is to arm himself
against the power of sublunary enticements and sublunary ter-
rors ; that he must suffer no artificial wants, sensuality, or fear,
to come in competition with the dictates of rectitude and reflec-
tion. But to expect a constancy of this sort from the human
species, under the present system, is an extravagant speculation.
The enquirer after truth, and the benefactor of mankind, will be
desirous of removing from them those external impressions, by
which their evil propensities are cherished. The true object that
should be kept in view is to extirpate all ideas of condescension
and superiority, to oblige every man to feel that the kindness he
exerts is what he is bound to perform, and to examine whether
the assistance he asks be what he has a right to claim.
A second evil that arises out of the established administration
of property is, the continual spectacle of injustice it exhibits.
The effect of this consists partly in the creation of wrong propen-
sities, and partly in a hostility to right ones. There is nothing
more pernicious to the human mind than the love of opulence.
Essentially active, when the original cravings of appetite have
been satisfied, we necessarily fix on some object of pursuit, bene-
volent or personal, and, in the latter case, on the attainment of
some excellence, or something which shall command the esteem
and deference of others. Few propensities, absolutely con-
sidered, can be more valuable than this. But the established ad-
ministration of property directs it into the channel of the acqui-
sition of wealth. The ostentation of the rich perpetually goads
the spectator to the desire of opulence. Wealth, by the senti-
ments of servility and dependence it produces, makes the rich
man stand forward as the principal object of general esteem and
deference. In vain are sobriety, integrity, and industry, in vain
the sublimest powers of mind, and the most ardent benevolence,
if their possessor be narrow in his circumstances. To acquire
wealth and to display it, is therefore the universal passion. The
whole structure of human society is made a system of the nar-
Chap. I., p. 206.
220 BENEFITS ATTENDANT ON
rowest selfishness. If the state of society were such that self-love
and benevolence were apparently reconciled as to their object, a
man might then set out with the desire of eminence, and yet be-
come every day more generous and philanthropical in his views.
But the passion we are here describing is accustomed to be grati-
fied at every step, by inhumanly trampling upon the interest of
others. Wealth is acquired by over-reaching our neighbour, and is
spent in insulting him.
The spectacle of injustice which the established administration
of property exhibits, operates also in the way of hostility to right
propensities. If you would cherish in any man the love of recti-
tude, you must see that its principles be impressed on him, not
only by words, but actions. It happens, perhaps, during the
period of education, that maxims of integrity and consistency are
repeatedly enforced, and the preceptor gives no quarter to the
base suggestions of selfishness and cunning. But how is the
lesson that has been read to the pupil confounded and reversed,
when he enters upon the scene of the world ? If he ask, " Why
is this man honoured?" the ready answer is, "Because he is
rich." If he enquire further, " Why is he rich ?" the answer in
most cases is, " From the accident of birth, or from a minute and
sordid attention to the cares of gain." Humanity weeps over the
distresses of the peasantry in all civilised nations ; and when she
turns from this spectacle, to behold the luxury of their lords,
gross, imperious, and prodigal, her sensations certainly are not
less acute. This spectacle is the school in which mankind have
been educated. They have been accustomed to the sight of in-
justice, oppression, and iniquity, till their feelings are made
callous, and their understandings incapable of apprehending the
principles of virtue.
In beginning to point out the evils of accumulated property,
we compared the extent of those evils with the correspondent
evils of monarchies and courts.* No circumstances, under the
latter, have excited a more pointed disapprobation than pensions
and pecuniary corruption, by means of which hundreds of in-
dividuals are rewarded, not for serving, but betraying the public,
and the hard earnings of industry are employed to fatten the ser-
vile adherents of despotism. But the rent-roll of the lands of
England is a much more formidable pension-list than that which
is supposed to be employed in the purchase of ministerial
majorities. All riches, and especially hereditary riches, are to be
considered as the salary of a sinecure office, where the labourer
and the manufacturer perform the duties, and the principal spends
the income in luxury and idleness.f Hereditary wealth is in
* r. 212.
t This idea is to be found in an Essay on the Eight of Property in Land,
published about twelve years ago by an ingenious inhabitant of North Bri-
tain, Part I., Sect, iii., par. 38, 39. The reasonings of this author have some-
times considerable merit, though he has by no means gone to the source of
the evil.
A SYSTEM OF L'^UALITY. 221
reality a premium paid to idleness, an immense annuity expended
to retain mankind in brutality and ignorance. The poor are
kept in ignorance by the want of leisure. The rich are furnished
indeed with the means of cultivation and literature, but they are
paid for being dissipated and indolent. The most powerful means
that malignity could have invented, are employed to prevent
them from improving their talents, and becoming useful to the
public.
This leads us to observe thirdly, that the established adminis-
tration of property is the true levelling system with respect to the
human species, by as much as the cultivation of intellect is more
valuable, and more characteristic of man, than the gratifications
of vanity or appetite. Accumulated property treads the powers
of thought in the dust, extinguishes the sparks of genius, and re-
duces the great mass of mankind to be immersed in sordid cares ;
beside depriving the rich, as we have already said, of the most
salubrious and effectual motives to activity. If superfluity were
banished, the necessity for the greater part of the manual industry
of mankind would be superseded ; and the rest, being amicably
shared among the active and vigorous members of the community,
would be burthensome to none. Every man would have a frugal,
yet wholesome diet ; every man would go forth to that moderate
exercise of his corporeal functions, that would give hilarity to the
spirits ; none would be made torpid with fatigue, but all would
have leisure to cultivate the kindly and philanthropical affections,
and to let loose his faculties in the search of intellectual improve-
ment. What a contrast does this scene present to the present
state of society, where the peasant and the labourer work till
their understandings are benumbed with toil, their sinews con-
tracted and made callous by being for ever on the stretch, and
their bodies invaded with infirmities, and surrendered to an un-
timely grave ? What is the fruit they obtain from this dispropor-
It might be amusing to some readers, to recollect the authorities, if the
citation of authorities were a proper mode of reasoning, by which the system
of accumulated property is openly attacked. The best known is Plato in his
treatise of a Republic. His steps have been followed by Sir Thomas More
in his Utopia. Specimens of very powerful reasoning on the same side, may
be found in Gulliver's Travels, particularly Part IV., Chap. VI. Mably, in
his book De la Legislation, has displayed at large the advantages of equality,
and then quits the subject in despair, from an opinion of the incprrigibleness
of human depravity. Wallace, the contemporary and antagonist of Hume,
in a treatise entitled, Various Prospects of Mankind, Nature and Providence,
is copious in his eulogium of the same system, and deserts it only from fear
of the earth becoming too populous : see below, Chap. IX. The great prac-
tical authorities are Crete, Sparta, Peru, and Paraguay. We should swell the
list to an inconvenient size, if we added examples where an approach only to
these principles was attempted, and authors who have incidentally confirmed
a doctrine so interesting and clear as never to have been wholly eradicated
from any human understanding.
It would be trifling to object that the systems of Plato and others are full
of imperfections. This rather strengthens their authority ; since the evi-
dence of the truth they maintained was so great, as still to preserve its hold
on their understanding's, though they knew not how to remove the difficulties
that attended it.
222 BENEFJTS ATTENDANT ON
tioned and unceasing toil ? In the evening they return to a
family famished with hunger, exposed half naked to the in-
clemencies of the sky, hardly sheltered, and denied the slenderest
instruction, unless in a few instances, where it is dispensed by the
hands of ostentatious charity, and the first lesson communicated
is unprincipled servility. All this while their rich neighbour-
but we visited him before.*
How rapid would be the advances of intellect, if all men were
admitted into the field of knowledge ? At present ninety -nine per-
sons in a hundred are no more excited to any regular exertions of
general and curious thought, than the brutes themselves. What
would be the state of public mind in a nation where all were
wise, all had laid aside the shackles of prejudice and implicit
faith, all adopted with fearless confidence, the suggestions of
reason, and the lethargy of the soul was dismissed for ever ? It is
to be presumed, that the inequality of mind would, in a certain
degree, be permanent ; but it is reasonable to believe, that the
geniuses of such an age would greatly surpass the utmost exer-
tions of intellect hitherto known. Genius would not be depressed
with false wants and niggardly patronage. It would not exert
itself with a sense of neglect and oppression rankling in its bosom.
It would be delivered from those apprehensions that perpetually
recal us to the thought of personal emolument; and, of conse-
quence, would expatiate freely among sentiments of generosity
and public good.
From ideas of intellectual, let us turn to moral improvement.
And here it is obvious, that the great occasions of crime would be
cut off for ever.f
The fruitful source of crimes consists in this circumstance, one
man's possessing in abundance that of which another man is
destitute. We must change the nature of mind, before we can
prevent it from being powerfully influenced by this circumstance,
when brought strongly home to its perceptions by the nature of
its situation. Man must cease to have senses, the pleasures of
appetite and vanity must cease to gratify, before he can look on
tamely at the monopoly of these pleasures. He must cease to
have a sense of justice before he can clearly and fully approve
this mixed scene of superfluity and want. It is true that the
proper method of curing this inequality is by reason and not by
violence. But the immediate tendency of the established adminis-
tration is to persuade men that reason is impotent. The injustice
of which they complain is upheld by force ; and they are too
easily induced by force to attempt its correction. All they en-
deavour, is the partial correction of an injustice which education
tells them is necessary, but more powerful reason affirms to be
tyrannical.
Force grew out of monopoly. It might accidentally have oc-
curred among savages, whose appetites exceeded their supply, or
* P. 220. f Vol. I., Book I., Chap. III.
A SYSTEM OF EQUALITY. 223
whose passions were inflamed by the presence of the object of
their desire ; but it would gradually have died away, as reason
and civilisation advanced. Accumulated property has fixed its
empire ; and henceforth all is an open contention of the strength
and cunning of one party, against the strength and cunning of
the other. In this case, the violent and premature struggles of
the necessitous, are undoubtedly an evil. They tend to defeat the
very cause in the success of which they are most deeply in-
terested ; they tend to procrastinate the triumph of justice. But
the true crime, in every instance, is in the selfish and partial pro-
pensities of men, thinking only of themselves, and despising
the emolument of others; and, of these, the rich have their
share.
The spirit of oppression, the spirit of servility, and the spirit of
fraud, these are the immediate growth of the established adminis-
tration of property. They are alike hostile to intellectual and
moral improvement. The other vices of envy, malice, and re-
venge, are their inseparable companions. In a state of society
where men lived in the midst of plenty, and where all shared
alike the bounties of nature, these sentiments would inevitably
expire. The narrow principle of selfishness would vanish. No
man being obliged to guard his little store, or provide, with
anxiety and pain, for his restless wants, each would lose his in-
dividual existence in the thought of the general good. No man
would be an enemy to his neighbour, for they would have no sub-
ject of contention ; and, of consequence, philanthropy would re-
sume the empire which reason assigns her. Mind would be de-
livered from her perpetual anxiety about corporeal support, and
free to expatiate in the field of thought which is congenial to her.
Each would assist the enquiries of all.
Let us fix our attention for a moment upon the alteration of
principles and habits, that immediately grows out of an unequal
distribution of property. Till it was thus distributed, men felt
what their wants required, and sought the supply of those wants.
All that was more than this was regarded as indifferent. But no
sooner is accumulation introduced than they begin to study a
variety of methods, for disposing of their superfluity with least
emolument to their neighbour, or, in other words, by which it
shall appear to be most their own. They do not long continue to
buy commodities before they begin to buy men. He that pos-
sesses, or is the spectator of, superfluity, soon discovers the hold
which it affords him on the minds of others. Hence the passions
of vanity and ostentation. Hence the despotic manners of such
as recollect with complacence the rank they occupy; and the
restless ambition of those whose attention is engrossed by the
possible future.
Ambition is, of all the passions of the human mind, the most
extensive in its ravages. It adds district to district, and kingdom
to kingdom. It spreads bloodshed and calamity and conquest over
the face of the earth. But the nassion itself, as well as the means
224 BENEFITS ATTENDANT ON
of gratifying it, is the produce of the prevailing administration of
property.* It is only by means of accumulation that one man
obtains an unresisted sway over multitudes of others. It is by
means of a certain distribution of income that the present govern-
ments of the world are retained in existence. Nothing more easy
than to plunge nations, so organised, into war. But, if Europe
were at present covered with inhabitants, all of them possessing
competence, and none of them superfluity, what could induce its
different countries to engage in hostility ? If you would lead men
to war, you must exhibit certain allurements. If you be not en-
abled, by a system already prevailing, and which derives force
from prescription, to hire them to your purposes, you must bring
over each individual by dint of persuasion. How hopeless a task,
by such means to excite mankind to murder each other ? It is
clear, then, that war, in all its aggravations, is the growth of un-
equal property. As long as this source of jealousy and corrup-
tion shall remain, it is visionary to talk of universal peace. As
soon as the source shall be dried up, it will be impossible to ex-
clude the consequence. It is accumulation that forms men into
one common mass, and makes them fit to be played upon like a
brute machine. Were this stumbling-block removed, each man
would be united to his neighbour, in love and mutual kindness, a
thousand times more than now : but each man would think and
judge for himself. Let then the advocates for the prevailing ad-
ministration at least consider what it is for which they plead, and
be well assured that they have arguments in its favour which will
weigh against these disadvantages.
There is one other circumstance which, though inferior to those
above enumerated, deserves to be mentioned. This is population.
It has been calculated that the average cultivation of Europe
might be so improved as to maintain five times her present num-
ber of inhabitants. f There is a principle in human society, by
which population is perpetually kept down to the level of the
means of subsistence. Thus, among the wandering tribes of
America and Asia, we never find, through the lapse of ages, that
population has so increased as to render necessary the cultivation
of the earth. Thus, among the civilised nations of Europe, by
means of territorial monopoly, the sources of subsistence are kept
within a certain limit, and, if the population became overstocked,
the lower ranks of the inhabitants would be still more incapable
of procuring for themselves the necessaries of life. There are,
no doubt, extraordinary concurrences of circumstances, by means
of which changes are occasionally introduced in this respect ; but,
in ordinary cases, the standard of population is held in a manner
stationary for centuries. Thus the established administration of
property may be considered as strangling a considerable portion
of our children in their cradle. Whatever may be the value of
* Book V., Chap. XVI.
i Essay on Property, Part I., Sect, iii., par. 35.
A SYSTEM OF EQUALITY. 225
the life of man, or rather whatever would be his capability of
happiness in a free and equal state of society, the system we are
here opposing may be considered as arresting, upon the
threshold of existence, four-fifths of that value and that hap-
piness.
CHAP. IV.
OBJECTION TO THIS SYSTEM FROM THE FRAILTY OF THE HUMAN
MIND.
Recapitulation. Objection stated. General ansicer to tJiis objection.
Particular answer. Influence of public opinion upon the conduct of
individuals.
HAYING proceeded thus far in our investigation, it may be pro-
per to recapitulate the principles already established. The dis-
cussion under each of its branches, as it relates to the equality of
men,* and the inequalities of property, f may be considered as a
discussion either of right or duty ; and, in that respect, runs
parallel to the two great heads of which we treated in our original
development of the principles of society. J I have a right to the-
assistance of my neighbour ; he has a right that it should not be
extorted from him by force. It is his duty to afford me the sup-
ply of which I stand in need ; it is my duty not to violate his pro-
vince in determining, first, whether he is to supply me ; and, se-
condly, in what degree.
Equality of conditions, or, in other words, an equal admission
to the means of improvement and pleasure, is a law rigorously
enjoined upon mankind by the voice of justice. All other
changes in society are good, only as they are fragments of this, or
steps to its attainment. All other existing abuses are to be de-
precated only as they serve to increase and perpetuate the in-
equality of conditions.
We have however arrived at another truth not less evident than
this. Equality of conditions cannot be produced by individual
compulsion, and ought not to be produced by compulsion in the
name of the whole. There remains therefore but one mode of
arriving at this great end of justice, and most essential improve-
ment of society, and that consists, in rendering the cession, by
him that has, to him that wants, an unrestrained and voluntary
action. There remain but two instruments for producing this
volition, the illumination of the understanding and the love of
distinction.
* Chap. I., III. + Chap. II. * Vol I., Book II., Chap. IV., V.
30. VOL. II. Q
226 OBJECTION FROM
These instruments have commonly been supposed wholly in
adequate to their object. It has usually been treated as " the
most visionary of all systems, to expect die rich to ' sell all that
they have, and give to the poor.'* It is one thing to convince
men, that a given conduct, on their part, would be most con-
ducive to the general interest, and another to persuade them,
actively to postpone, to considerations of general interest, every
idea of personal ambition or pleasure. The sober calculator will
often doubt whether it be reasonable, in consistence with the
nature of a human being, to expect from him such a sacrifice :
and the man of a lively and impetuous temper, even when satis-
fied that it is his duty, will be in hourly danger of deserting it, at
the invitation of some allurement, too powerful for mortal frailty
to resist."
There is certainly considerable force in this statement; and
there is good reason to believe, though the human mind be un-
questionably accessible to disinterested motives, f that virtue
would be in most instances an impracticable refinement ; were it
not that self-love and social, however different in themselves, are
found upon strict examination to prescribe the same system of
conduct.
But this observation by no means removes the difficulty in-
tended to be suggested in the objection. "Though frugality,
moderation, and plainness, may be the joint dictate of these two
authorities, yet it is the property of the human mind, to be
swayed by things present, more than by things absent. In affairs
of religion, we often find men indulging themselves in offences of
small gratification, in spite of all the threats that can be held out
to them of eternal damnation. It is in vain that, for the most
part, you would preach the pleasures of abstinence amidst the
profusion of a feast; or the unsubstantialness of fame and power,,
to him who is tortured with the goadings of ambition. The case
ig similar to that of the exacerbations of grief, the attempt to cure
which by the consolations of philosophy, has been a source of
inexhaustible ridicule."
The answer to these remarks has been anticipated. J The
ridicule lies in supposing the endeavour to cure a man of his
weakness, to consist in one phlegmatic and solitary expostulation,
instead of conceiving it to be accompanied with the vigour of
conscious truth, and lie progressive regularity of a course of
instruction.
Let us take up the subject in a view, in some degree varying
from that in which it was formerly considered. We have endea-
voured to establish, in the commencement of the present book,
the principles of justice, relative to the distribution of the goods
of fortune. Let us enquire, whether the principles there de-
livered can be made productive of conviction to the rich ; whe-
* Maik, Ch. x., ver. 21. + Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. X.
$ Vol. I., Book I., Chap. V., ? 3.
THE FRAILTY OF THE HUMAN MISD. 227
ther they can be made productive of conviction, in cases not
immediately connected with personal interest ; and whether tkey
can be made productive of conviction to the poor ?
Is it possible for a rich man to see, that the costly gratifications
in which he indulges, are comparatively of little value, and that
he may arrive at every thing that is most essential in happiness or
pleasure, by means of the three other sources formerly enume-
rated,* subsistence, unexpensive gratifications, and the means of
intellectual and moral improvement ? Is it possible for him to
understand the calculation, " in every glass that he drinks, and
every ornament that he annexes to his person," of " how many
individuals have been condemned to slavery and sweat, incessant
drudgery, unwholesome food, continual hardships, deplorablo
ignorance, and brutal insensibility, that he may be supplied with
these luxuries ?"f Is it possible for a man to have these ideas
so repeatedly suggested to his mind, so strongly impressed, and
so perpetually haunting him, as finally to induce a rich man to-
desire, with respect to personal gratifications, to live as if he were
a poor one ? It is not conceivable but that every one of these
questions must be answered in the affirmative.
Be it observed, by the way, that the motives for a rich man to
live as if he were a poor one, are very inferior now, to what they
would be, when a general sympathy upon this subject had taken
place, and a general illumination had diffused itself.
If then it be possible for a rich man, from the mere appre-
hensions of justice, voluntarily to desire to live as if he were a
poor one, we shall have still less hesitation in affirming, that a
sentiment of justice in this matter, may be made productive of
conviction, in cases not immediately connected with personal
interest, and of conviction to the poor.
Undoubtedly an apprehension of the demands of justice in this
respect, has some tendency to the instigation of violence and
tumult, were we not to suppose the gradual development of this
impression to be accompanied with a proportionable improvement
of the mind in other respects, and a slow, but incessant, meliora-
tion of the institutions and practices of society. With this sup-
position, it could not however fail to happen, that, in proportion
as the prejudices and ignorance of the great mass of society
declined, the credit of wealth, and the reverent admiration with
which it is now contemplated, must also decline. But, in pro-
portion as it lost credit with the great mass of society, it would
relax its hold upon the minds of those who possess it, or have the
means of acquiring it. We have already seen,J that the great
incitement to the acquisition of wealth, is the love of distinction.
Suppose then that, instead of the false glare which wealth,
through the present puerility of the human mind, reflects on it*'
possessor, his conduct in amassing and monopolising it, were seen
in its true light. We should not then demand his punishment
Chap. I., p. 204. t Chap. II., p. 209. * Chap. I., p. 205.
2 Q
228 OBJECTION FROM
but we should look on him as a man uninitiated in the plainest
sentiments of reason. He would not be pointed at with the
finger, or hooted as he passed along through the resorts of men,
but he would be conscious that he was looked upon as the
meanest of mankind. He would be incited to the same assi-
duity in hiding his acquisitions then, as he employs in displaying
them now. He would be regarded with no terror, for his con-
duct would appear too absurd to excite imitation. Add to which,
his acquisitions would be small, as the independent spirit and
sound discretion of mankind, would allow but little chance of his
being able to retain them in his service, as now, by generously
rewarding them with a part of the fruit of their own labours.
Thus it appears, with irresistible probability, when the subject of
wealth shall be understood, and correct ideas respecting it fami-
liarised to the human mind, that the present disparity of con-
ditions will subside, by a gradual and incessant progress, into its
true level.
CHAP. V.
OBJECTION TO THIS SYSTEM FROM THE QUESTION OF PERMANENCE.
Grounds of the objection. Its serious import. Nature of the equality
under consideration as produced by a stricter sense of justiceand a
purer theory of happiness.
THE change we are here contemplating, consists in the dispo-
sition of every member of the community, voluntarily to resign
that, which would be productive of a much higher degree of
benefit and pleasure, when possessed by his neighbour, than
when occupied by himself. Undoubtedly, this state of society is
remote from the modes of thinking and acting which at present
prevail. A long period of time must probably elapse, before it
can be brought entirely into practice. All we have been attempt-
ing to establish is, that such a state of society is agreeable to
reason, and prescribed by justice; and that, of consequence, the
progress of science and political truth among mankind, is closely
connected with its introduction. The inherent tendency of intel-
lect is to improvement. If therefore this inherent tendency be
suftered to operate, and no concussion of nature or inundation of
barbarism arrest its course, the state of society we have been
describing, must, at some time, arrive.
But it has frequently been said, " that if an equality of con-
ditions could be introduced to-day, it would be destroyed to-
morrow. It is impossible to reduce the varieties of the human
mind to such a uniformity, as this system demands. One man
THE QUESTION OF PERMANENCE. 229
will be more industrious than another ; one man will be provi-
dent and avaricious, and another dissipated and thoughtless.
Misery and confusion would be the result of an attempt to equa-
lise, in the first instance, and the old vices and monopolies would
succeed, in the second. All that the rich could purchase by the
most generous sacrifice, would be a period of barbarism, from
which the ideas and regulations of civil society must recom-
mence, as from a new infancy."
Upon this statement, it is first to be remarked, that, if true, it
presents to us a picture, in the highest degree, melancholy and
discouraging. It discovers a disease, to which it is probable there
is no remedy. Human knowledge must proceed. What we see
and admire, we shall at some time or other seek to attain : Such
is the inevitable law of our nature. It is impossible not to see
the beauty of equality, and not to be charmed with the benefits it
appears to promise. It is impossible not to regret the unbounded
mischiefs and distress, that grow out of the opposite system.
The consequence is sure. Man, according to these reasoners, is
prompted, for some time, to advance with success : but after that,
in the very act of pursuing further improvement, he necessarily
plunges beyond the compass of his powers, and has his petty
career to begin afresh : always pursuing what is beautiful, always
frustrated in his object, always involved in calamities by the very
means he employs to escape them.
Secondly, it is to be observed, that there is a wide difference be-
tween the equality here spoken of, and the equality which has
frequently constituted a subject of discussion among mankind.
This is not an equality introduced by force, or maintained by the
laws and regulations of a positive institution. It is not the result
of accident, of the authority of a chief magistrate, or the over-
earnest persuasion of a few enlightened thinkers ; but is produced
by the serious and deliberate conviction of the public at large.
It is one thing, for men to be held to a certain system, by the
force of laws, and the vigilance of those who administer them;
and a thing entirely different, to be held by the firm and habitual
persuasion of their own minds. We can readily conceive their
rinding means to elude the former ; but it is not so easy to com-
prehend a disobedience to the latter. If the force of truth shall
be strong enough, gradually to wean men from the most rooted
habits, and to introduce a mode of society so remote from that
which at present exists, it will also probably be strong enough, to
hold them in the course they have commenced, and to prevent
the return of vices which have once been extirpated. This pro-
bability will be increased, if we recollect the two principles which
must have led men into such a system of action ; a stricter sense
of justice, and a purer theory of happiness.
Equality of conditions cannot begin to assume a fixed appear-
ance in human society, till the sentiment becomes deeply im-
pressed, as well as widely diffused, that the genuine wants of any
man, constitute his only just claim to the ultimate appropriation,
230 OBJECTION FROM
and the consumption, of any species of commodity. It must
previously be seen, that the claims of one man are originally of
the same extent as the claims of another ; and that the only dif-
ference which can arise, must relate to extraordinary infirmity,
or the particular object of utility which any individual is engaged
in promoting. It must be felt, that the most fundamental and
noxious of all kinds of injustice, is for one man actively to with-
hold from his neighbours the most indispensible benefits, for the
sake of some trivial accommodation to himself. Men who are
habituated to these views, can scarcely be tempted to monopo-
lise ; and the sense of the community respecting him who yields
to the temptation, will be so decisive in its tenor, and unequiyo-
cal in its manifestation, as to afford small encouragement to
perseverance or imitation.
A spontaneous equality of conditions, also implies a pur6r
theory of happiness than has hitherto obtained. Men will cease
to regard with complacence, the happiness that consists in splen-
dour and ostentation, of which the true object, however disguised,
is to insult our neighbours, and to feed our own Tanity, with the
recollection of the goods that we possess, and from which, though
endowed with an equal claim, they are debarred. They will
cease to derive pleasure, from the empire to be possessed over
others, or the base senility and terror with which they may
address us. They will be contented, for the most part, with the
means of healthful existence, and of unexpensive pleasure. They
will iind the highest gratification in promoting and contemplating
the general happiness. They will regard superfluities, absolutely
considered, with no impatience of desire ; and will abhor the idea
of obtaining them through the medium of oppression and injus-
tice. This conduct they would be induced to observe, even were
their own gratification only in view ; and, instead of repining at
the want of exorbitant indulgences, they will stand astonished,
that men could ever have found gratification, in that which was
Tisibly stamped and contaminated with the badge of extortion.
CHAP. VI.
OBJECTION TO THIS SYSTEM FROM THE ALLUREMENTS OF SLOTH.
Objection proposed. Such a state of society preceded by great intellectual
improvement. The manual labour required will be small. Univer-
sality of the lore (/ distinction. Operation of this motive under the
system in question -finally superseded by a better motive.
ANOTHER objection which has been urged against the system
which counteracts the accumulation of property, is, " that it
THE ALLUREMENTS OP SLOTH. 231
would put an end to industry. We behold, in commercial coun-
tries, the miracles that are operated by the love of gain. Their
inhabitants cover the sea with their fleets, astonish mankind by
the refinements of their ingenuity, hold vast continents in sub-
jection, in distant parts of the world, by their arms, are able to
defy the most powerful confederacies, and, oppressed with taxes
and debts, seem to acquire fresh prosperity under their accumu-
lated burthens. Shall we lightly part with a motive which
appears so great and stupendous in its influence ? Once establish
it as a principle in society, that no man is to apply to his personal
use more than his necessities require ; and every man will be-
come indifferent to the exertions which now call forth the energy
of his faculties. Once establish it as a principle, that each man,
without being compelled to exert his own powers, is entitled to
partake of the superfluity of his neighbour ; and indolence will
speedily become universal. Such a society must either starve,
or be obliged, in its own defence, to return to that system of
monopoly and sordid interest, which theoretical reasoners will
for ever arraign to no purpose."
In reply to this objection, the reader must again be reminded,
that the equality for which we are pleading, is an equality which
would succeed to a state of great intellectual improvement. So
bold a revolution cannot take place in human affairs, till the
general mind has been highly cultivated. Hasty and undigested
tumults, may be produced by a superficial idea of equalisation ;
but it is only a clear and c.,lm conviction of justice, of justice
mutually to be rendered and received, of happiness to be pro-
duced by the desertion of our most rooted habits, that can intro-
duce an invariable system of this sort. Attempts, without this
preparation, will be productive only of confusion. Their effect
will be momentary, and a new and more barbarous inequality
will succeed. Each man, with unaltered appetite, will watch the
opportunity, to gratify his love of power or of distinction, by
usurping on his inattentive neighbours.
Is it to be believed, then, that a state of so great intellectual
improvement can be the forerunner of universal ignorance and
brutality ? Savages, it is true, are subject to the weakness of
indolence. But civilised and refined states are the theatre of a
peculiar activity. It is thought, acuteness of disquisition, and
ardour of pursuit, that set the corporeal faculties at work.
Thought begets thought. Nothing perhaps can put a stop to the
advances of mind but oppression. But here, so far from being
oppressed, every man is equal, every man independent and at his
ease. It has been observed, that the introduction of a republican
government is attended with public enthusiasm and irresistible
enterprise. Is it to be believed that equality, the true republi-
canism, will be less effectual ? It is true, that in republics this
spirit, sooner or later, is found to languish. Republicanism is not
a remedy that strikes at the root of the evil. Injustice, oppres-
sion, and misery, can find an abode in those seeming happy seats.
232 OBJECTIONS FROM
But what shall stop the progress of ardour and improvement,
where the monopoly of property is unknown ?
This argument will be strengthened, if we reflect on the
amount of labour that a state of equality will require. What is
this quantity of exertion from which the objection supposes
many individuals to shrink ? It is so light as rather to assume
the guise of agreeable relaxation and gentle exercise, than of
labour. In such a community scarcely any one can be expected,
in consequence of his situation or avocations, to consider himself
as exempted from the obligation to manual industry. There will
be no rich man to recline in indolence, and fatten upon the labour
of his fellows. The mathematician, the poet, and the philoso-
pher, will derive a new stock of cheerfulness and energy from the
recurring labour that makes them feel they are men. There will
be no persons devoted to the manufacture of trinkets and
luxuries ; and none whose office it should be to keep in motion
the complicated machine of government, tax-gatherers, beadles,
excisemen, tide-waiters, clerks, and secretaries. There will be
neither fleets nor armies, neither courtiers nor lacqueys. It is
the unnecessary employments that at present occupy the great
mass of every civilised nation, while the peasant labours inces-
santly to maintain them in a state more pernicious than idleness.
It may be computed, that not more than one twentieth of the
inhabitants of England is substantially employed in the labours
of agriculture. Add to this that the nature of agriculture is such
as to give full occupation in some parts of the year, and to leave
other parts comparatively vacant. We may consider the latter
as equivalent to a labour which, under the direction of sufficient
skill, might suffice, in a simple state of society, for the fabrication
of tools, for weaving, and the occupation of tailors, bakers, and
butchers. The object in the present state of society, is to mul-
tiply labour ; in another state, it will be to simplify it. A vast
disproportion of the wealth of the community has been thrown
into the hands of a few ; and ingenuity has been continually upon
the stretch, to find ways in which it may be expended. In the
feudal times, the great lord invited the poor to come and eat of
the produce of his estate, upon condition of wearing his livery,
and forming themselves in rank and file to do honour to his well-
born guests. Now, that exchanges are more facilitated, he has
quitted this inartificial mode, and obliges the men who are main-
tained from his income to exert their ingenuity and industry in re-
turn. Thus, in the instance just mentioned, he pays the tailor to
cut his clothes to pieces, that he may sew them together again, and
to decorate them with stitching and various ornaments, without
which they would be, in no respect, less convenient and useful.
We are imagining, in the present case, a state of the most rigid
simplicity.
From the sketch which has been given, it seems by no means
impossible, that the labour of every twentieth man in the com-
munity would be sufficient to supply to the rest all the absolute
THE ALLUREMENTS OF SLOTH. 233
necessaries of life. If then this labour, instead of being per-
formed by so small a number, were amicably divided among the
whole, it would occupy the twentieth part of every man's time.
Let us compute that the industry of a labouring man engrosses
ten hours in every day, which, when we have deducted his hours
of rest, recreation, and meals, seems an ample allowance. It fol-
lows that half an hour a day, employed in manual labour by
every member of the community, would sufficiently supply the
whole with necessaries. Who is there that would shrink from
this degree of industry? Who is there that sees the incessant
industry exerted in this city and island, and would believe that,
with half an hour's industry per diem, the sum of happiness to
the community at large might be much greater than at present ?
Is it possible to contemplate this fair and generous picture of in-
dependence and virtue, where every man would have ample
leisure for the noblest energies of mind, without feeling our very
souls refreshed with admiration and hope ?
When we talk of men's sinking into idleness, if they be not
excited by the stimulus of gain, we seem to have little con-
sidered the motives that at present govern the" human mind.
We are deceived by the apparent mercenariness of mankind,
and imagine that the accumulation of wealth is their great ob-
iect. But it has sufficiently appeared, that the present ruling
passion of man is the love of distinction.* There is, no doubt,
a class in society that is perpetually urged by hunger and need,
and has no leisure for motives less gross and material. But is the
class next above them less industrious than they ? Will any man
affirm that the mind of the peasant is as far removed from inaction
and sloth, as the mind of the general or the statesman, of the
natural philosopher who mascerates himself with perpetual stud}',
or the poet, the bard of Mantua for example, who can never be-
lieve that he has sufficiently revised, reconsidered, and polished
his compositions ?
In reality, those by whom this reasoning has been urged, have
mistaken the nature of their own objection. They did not sup-
pose that men could be roused into action only by the love of
gain ; but they conceived that, in a state of equality, men would
have nothing to occupy their attention. What degree of truth
there is in this idea we shall presently have occasion to es-
timate.f
Meanwhile, it is sufficiently obvious that 'the motives which
arise from the love of distinction, are by no means cut off by a
state of society incompatible with the accumulation of property.
Men, no longer able to acquire the esteem, or avoid the contempt,
of their neighbours, by circumstances of dress and furniture, will
divert the passion for distinction into another channel. They will
avoid the reproach of indolence, as carefully as they now avoid
the reproach of poverty. The only persons who at present
* Chap. I., p. 205. f Chap. MI., VIII.
234 OBJECTION FROM
neglect the effect which their appearance and manners may pro-
duce, are those whose faces are ground with famine and distress.
But, in a state of equal society, no man will be oppressed, and, of
consequence, the more delicate affections will have time to expand
themselves. The general mind having, as we have already
shown, arrived at a high degree of improvement, the impulse
that carries it into action will be stronger. The fervour of pub-
lic spirit will be great. Leisure will be multiplied ; and the lei-
sure of a cultivated understanding is the precise period in which
great designs designs the tendency of which is to secure ap-
plause and esteem, are conceived. In tranquil leisure it is im-
possible for any but the sublimest mind to exist without the pas-
sion for distinction. This passion, no longer permitted to lose it-
self in indirect channels and useless wanderings, will seek the
noblest course, and perpetually fructify the seeds of public good.
Mind, though it will perhaps at no time arrive at the termination
of its possible discoveries and improvements, will nevertheless
advance with a rapidity and firmness of progression, of which we
are at present unable to conceive the idea.
The love of fame is no doubt a delusion. This, like every
other delusion, will take its turn to be detected and abjured. It
is an airy phantom, which will indeed afford us an imperfect
pleasure so long as we worship it, but will always, in a consider-
able degree, disappoint us, and will not stand the test of exami-
nation. We ought to love nothing but a substantial happiness,
that happiness which will bear the test of recollection, and which
no clearness of perception, and improvement of understanding,
will tend to undermine. If there be any principle more substan-
tial than the rest, it is justice, a principle that rests upon this
single postulatum, that man and man are beings of the same
nature, and susceptible, under certain limitations, of the same
advantages. Whether the benefit, which is added to the common
stock, proceed from you or me, is a pitiful distinction. Fame
therefore is an unsubstantial and delusive pursuit. If it signify
an opinion entertained of me greater than I deserve, to desire it
is vicious. If it be the precise mirror of my character, it is
valuable only as a means, in as much as I shall be able most es-
sentially to benefit those who best know the extent of my capacity,
and the rectitude of my intentions.
The love of fame, when it perishes in minds formed under the
present system, often gives place to a principle still more repre-
hensible. Selfishness is the habit that grows out of monopoly.
When therefore selfishness ceases to seek its gratification in pub-
lic exertion, it too often narrows into some frigid conception of
personal pleasure, perhaps sensual, perhaps intellectual. But this
cannot be the process where monopoly is banished. Selfishness
has there no kindly circumstances to foster it. Truth, the over-
powering truth of general good, then seizes us irresistibly. It is
impossible we should want motives, so long as we see clearly how
multitudes and ages may be benefitted by our exertions, how
THE ALLUREMENTS OF SLOTH. 235
causes and effects arc connected in an endless chain, so that no
honest effort can be lost, but -will operate to good, centuries after
its author is consigned to the grave.* This will be the general
passion, and all will be animated by the example of all.
CHAP. vii.
OBJECTION TO THIS SYSTEM TROM THE BENEFITS OF LUXURY.
Nature of the objection. Extent of its influence, Ltixury a stage to
be passed through. Meanings of the term luxury distinguished.
Application*
THE objections we have hitherto examined, attack the practi-
cability of a system of equality. But there are not wanting rea-
soners, the tendency of whose arguments is to show that, omitting
the practicability, it is not even desirable. One of the objections
they advance, is as follows.
They lay it down as a maxim, in the first instance, and the
truth of this maxim we shall not contend with them, " that refine-
ment is better than ignorance. It is better to be a man than a
brute. Those attributes therefore, which separate the man from
the brute, are most worthy of our affection and cultivation. Ele-
gance of taste, refinement of sentiment, depth of penetration, and
largeneso of science, are among the noblest ornaments of man.
But all these," say they, "are connected with inequality; they
are the growth of luxury. It is luxury, by which palaces are
built, and cities peopled. It is fur the purpose of obtaining a
share of the luxury which he witnesses hi his richer neighbours,
that the artificer exerts the refinements of his skill. To this
cause we are indebted, for the arts of architecture, painting,
music and poetry. Art would never have been cultivated, if a
state of inequality had not enabled some men to purchase, and
excited others to acquire the talent which was necessary to sell.
In a state of equality, we must always have remained, and, with
.equality restored, we must again become, barbarians. Thus we
see [as in the system of optimismf] disorder, selfishness, mono-
poly and distress, all of them seeming discords, contributing to
the admirable harmony and magnificence of the -svhole. The
intellectual improvement and enlargement we witness and hope
for, was worth purchasing at the expense of partial injustice and
distress." +
* Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. X. + Vol. I., Cook IV., Chap. XI.
t The great champion of this doctrine is Mandeville. It is not hovreror
easy to determine, tvhether he is seriously, or only ironically, the defender of
the present system of society. His principal work [Fable of the Bees] is
236 OBJECTION FROM
This view of the subject, under various forms, has been very
extensive in its effects. It probably contributed to make Rous-
seau an advocate of the savage state. Undoubtedly, we must
not permit ourselves to think slightly of the mischiefs that ac-
crue from a state of inequality. If it be necessary that the great
mass of mankind should be condemned to slavery, and, stranger
still, to ignorance, that a few may be enlightened, certainly those
moralists are not to be blamed, who doubted whether perpetual
rudeness were not preferable to such a gift. Fortunately this is
by no means the real alternative.
Perhaps a state of luxury, such as is here described, and a
state of inequality, might be a stage through which it was neces-
sary to pass, in order to arrive at the goal of civilisation. The
only security we can ultimately have for an equality of conditions,
is a general persuasion of the iniquity of accumulation, and the
uselessness of wealth, in the purchase of happiness. But this
persuasion could not be established in a savage state ; nor indeed
can it be maintained, if we should fall back into barbarism. It
was the spectacle of inequality, that first excited the grossness of
barbarians to persevering exertion, as a means of acquiring. It
was persevering exertion, that first gave the reality, and the sense,
of that leisure, which has served the purposes of literature and art.
But, though inequality were necessary as the prelude to civi-
lisation, it is not necessary to its support. We may throw down
the scaffolding, when the edifice is complete. We have at large
endeavoured to show,* that the love of our fellow men, the love
of distinction, and whatever motive is most allied to the energies
of the human mind, will remain, when the enchantments ot
wealth are dissolved. He who has tasted the pleasures of refine-
ment and knowledge, will not relapse into ignorance.
The better to understand the futility of the present objection, it
may be proper to enter into a more accurate consideration of the
sense of the term luxury. It depends upon the meaning in which
it is understood, to determine whether it is to be regarded as a
virtue or a vice. If we understand by a luxury, something which
is to be enjoyed exclusively by some, at the expense of undue
privations, and a partial burthen upon others ; to indulge our-
selves in luxury is then a vice. But, if we understand by luxury,
which is frequently the case, every accommodation which is not
absolutely necessary to maintain us in sound and healthful exist-
highly worthy the attention of every man, who would learn profoundly to
philosophise upon human affairs. No author has displayed, in stronger
terms, the deformity of existing abuses, or proved more satisfactorily how
inseparably these abuses are connected together. Hume [Essays ; Part II,
Essay II.] has endeavoured to communicate to the Mandevilian system his
own lustre and brilliancy of colouring. But it has unfortunately happened,
that what he adds in beauty he has subtracted from profoundness. The pro-
foundness of Hume, which has never been surpassed, and which ranks him
with the most illustrious and venerable of men, is for the most part the pro-
foundness of logical distinction, rather than of moral analvsis.
Chap. I., IV., VI.
THE BENEFITS OP LUXURY. 237
ence, the procuring and communicating luxuries may then be
virtuous. The end of virtue, is to add to the sum of pleasurable
sensation. The beacon and regulator of virtue, is impartiality,
that we shall not give that exertion to procure the pleasure of an.
individual, which might have been employed in procuring the
pleasure of many individuals. Within these limits every man is
laudably employed, who procures to himself or his neighbour a
real accession of pleasure; and he is censurable, who neglects any
occasion of being so employed. We ought not to study that we may
live, but to live that we may replenish existence with the greatest
number of unalloyed, exquisite and substantial enjoyments.
Let us apply these reflections to the state of equality we have
endeavoured to delineate. It appeared in that delineation,* that
the labour of half an hour per diem on the part of every indivi-
dual in the community, would probably be sufficient to procure
for all the necessaries of life. This quantity of industry there-
fore, though prescribed by no law, and enforced by no direct
penalty, would be most powerfully imposed upon the strong in
intellect, by a sense of justice, and upon the weak, by a sense of
shame. After this, how would men spend the remainder of their
time? Not probably in idleness, nor all men, the whole of
their time, in the pursuit of intellectual attainments. There are
many things, the fruit of human industry, which, though not to
be classed among the necessaries of life, are highly conducive to
our well being. The criterion of these things will appear, when
we have ascertained what those accommodations are which will
give us real pleasure, after the insinuations of vanity and osten-
tation shall have been dismissed. A considerable portion of time
would probably be dedicated, in an enlightened community, to
the production of such accommodations. A labour of this sort
is perhaps not inconsistent with the most desirable state of human
existence. Laborious employment is a calamity now, because it
is imperiously prescribed upon men as the condition of their
existence, and because it shuts them out from a fair participation
in the means of knowledge and improvement. When it shall be
rendered in the strictest sense voluntary, when it shall cease to
interfere with our improvement, and rather become a part of it, or
at worst be converted into a source of amusement and variety, it
may then be no longer a calamity, but a benefit. Thus it ap-
pears that a state of equality need not be a state of Stoical sim*
plicity, but is compatible with considerable accommodation, and
even, in some sense, with splendour ; at least, if by splendour we
understand copiousness of accommodation, and variety of inven-
tion for the purposes of accommodation. Those persons therefore
may be concluded to have small appearance of reason, who con-
found such a state with the state of the savage ; or who suppose
that the acquisition of the former, is to be considered as having a
tendency to lead to the latter.
* Chap..VL, p. 233.
238 OBJECTION FROM
CKAP. VIII.
OBJECTION TO THIS SYSTEM FROM THE INFLEXIBILITY OF ITS
RESTRICTIONS.
Objection stated. Natural and moral independence distinguished.
Tendency of restriction properly so called. The system o}' eqtialiti/
not a system of restriction.
AN objection that has often been urged against a system of
equality, is, " that it is inconsistent with personal independence.
Every man, according to this scheme, is a passive instrument in
the hands of the community. He must eat and drink, and play
and sleep, at the bidding of others. He has no habitation, no
period at which he can retreat into himself, and not ask another's
leave. He has notliing that he can call his own, not even his
time or his person. Under the appearance of a perfect freedom
from oppression and tyranny, he is in reality subjected to the
most unlimited slavery."
To understand the force of this objection it is necessary that
we should distinguish two sorts of independence, one of which
may be denominated natural, and the other moral. Natural
independence, a freedom from all constraint, except that of rea-
sons and inducements presented to the understanding, is of the
utmost importance to the welfare and improvement of mind.
Moral independence, on the contrary, is always injurious. The
dependence, which is essential, in this respect, to the wholesome
temperament of society, includes in its articles, that are, no
doubt, unpalatable to a multitude of the present race of man-
kind, but that owe their unpopularity only to weakness and vice.
It includes a censure to be exercised by every individual over the
actions of another, a promptness to enquire into and to judge
them. Why should we shrink from this ? What could be more
beneficial, than for each man to derive assistance for correcting
and moulding his conduct, from the perspicacity of his neigh-
tours? The reason that this species of censure is at present
exercised with illiberality, is, because it is exercised clandes-
tinely, and because we submit to its operation with impatience
and aversion. Moral independence is always injurious : for, as
has abundantly appeared in the course of the present enquiry,
there is no situation in which I can be placed, where it is not
incumbent upon me to adopt a certain conduct in preference to
all others, and, of consequence, where I shall not prove an ill
member of society, if I act in any other than a particular manner.
The attachment that is felt by the present race of mankind to
independence in this respect, and the desire to act as they please,
without being accountable to the principles of reason, are highly
detrimental to the general welfare.
INFLEXIBILITY OP ITS RESTRICTIONS. 239
But, if we ought never to act independently of the principles of
reason, and, in no instance, to shrink from the candid examina-
tion of another, it is nevertheless essential, that we should, at all
times, be free, to cultivate the individuality, and follow the dic-
tates, of our own judgment. If there be anything in the idea of
equality that infringes this principle, the objection oiight probably
to be conclusive. If the scheme be, as it has often been repre-
sented, a scheme of government, constraint and regulation, it is,
no doubt, in direct hostility with the principles of this work.
But the truth is, that a system of equality requires no restric-
tions or superintendence. There is no need of common labour,
meals or magazines. These arc feeble and mistaken instruments,,
for restraining the conduct, without making conquest of the judg-
ment. If you cannot bring over the hearts of the community to
your party, expect no success from brute regulations. If you
can, regulation is unnecessary. Such a system was well enough
adapted to the military constitution of Sparta ; but it is wholly
unworthy of men enlisted in no cause but that of reason and.
justice. Beware of reducing men to the state of machines. Go-
vern them through no medium but that of inclination and con-
viction.
Can there be a good reason for men's eating together, except
where they are prompted to it by the impulse of their own minds ?
Ought I to come at a certain hour, from the museum where I am
working, the retreat in which I meditate, or the observatory
where I remark the phenomena of nature, to a certain hall appro-
priated to the office of eating ; instead of eating, as reason bids me,
at the time and place most suited to my avocations ? Why have
common magasines ? For the purpose of carrying our provisions
to a certain distance, that we may afterwards bring them back
again ? Or is this precautions reafiy necessary, after all that has
been said, to guard us against the knavery and covetousness of
our associates ?
Appendix.
OF CO-OPERATION, COHABITATION AND MARRIAGE.
Advantages of social refinement of individuality. Evils of co-operation.
Jdeas of the future state of co-operation. Its limits. Its legitimate
province. Evils of cohabitation of the received system of marriage.
Consequences of their abolition. A promiscuous commerce of the sexes
estimated. Inconstancy estimated. Education need not be a subject
of positive institution. Of the division of labour.
IT is a curious subject, to enquire into the due medium be-
tween Individuality and concert. On the one hand, it is to be
240 OF CO-OPERATION,
observed that human beings are formed for society. Without
society, we shall probably be deprived of the most eminent enjoy-
ments of which our nature is susceptible. In society, no man,
possessing the genuine marks of a man, can stand alone. Our
opinions, our tempers and our habits are modified by those of
each other. This is by no means the mere operation of argu-
ments and persuasives; it occurs in that insensible and gradual
way, which no resolution can enable us wholly to counteract.
He that would attempt to counteract it by insulating himself,
will fall into a worse error than that which he seeks to avoid.
He will divest himself of the character of a man, and be incapable
of judging of his fellow men, or of reasoning upon human affairs.
On the other hand, individuality is of the very essence of intel-
"ectual excellence. He that resigns himself wholly to sympathy
and imitation, can possess little of mental strength or accuracy.
The system of his life is a species of sensual dereliction. He is
like a captive in the garden of Armida ; he may revel in the midst
of a thousand delights ; but he is incapable of the enterprise of a
hero, or the severity of a philosopher. He lives forgetting and
forgot. He has deserted his station in human society. Mankind
cannot be benefited by him. He neither animates them to exer-
tion, nor leads them forward to unexpected improvement. When
his country or his species call for him, he is not found in his rank.
They can owe him no obligations ; and, if one spark of a generous
spirit remain within him, he will view his proceedings with no
complacency. The truly venerable, and the truly happy, must
have the fortitude to maintain his individuality. If he indulge in
the gratifications, and cultivate the feelings of man, he must at
the same time be strenuous in following the train of his disquisi-
tions and exercising the powers of his understanding.
The objectors of a former chapter* were partly in the right
when they spoke of the endless variety of mind. It would be
absurd to say that we are not capable of truth, of evidence, and
agreement. In these respects, so far as mind is in a state of pro-
gressive improvement, we are perpetually coming nearer to each
other. But there are subjects about which we shall continually
differ, and ought to differ. The ideas, associations, and circum-
stances of each man are properly his own ; and it is a pernicious
system that would lead us to require all men, however different
their circumstances, to act by a precise general rule. Add to this
that, by the doctrine of progressive improvement, we shall always
"be erroneous, though we shall every day become less erroneous.
The proper method for hastening the decline of error, and pro-
ducing uniformity of judgment, is not by brute force, by laws, or
by imitation, but on the contrary, by exciting every man to think
for himself.
From these principles it appears that every thing that is usually
understood by the term co-operation is, in some degree, an evil.
* Chap. V.
COHABITATION, AND MARRIAGE. 241
A man in solitude is obliged to sacrifice or postpone the execution
of his best thoughts, in compliance with his necessities or his
frailties. How many admirable designs have perished in the
conception, by means of this circumstance ? It is still worse
when a man is also obliged to consult the convenience of others.
If I be expected to eat or to work in conjunction with my neigh-
bour, it must either be at a time most convenient to me, or to him,
or to neither of us. We cannot be reduced to a clock-work
uniformity.
Hence it follows that all supererogatory co-operation is carefully
to be avoided, common labour and common meals. " But what
shall we say to a co-operation that seems dictated by the nature of
the work to be performed ?" It ought to be diminished. There
is probably considerably more of injury in the concert of industry
than of sympathies. At present it is unreasonable to doubt, that
the consideration of the evil of co-operation is, in certain urgent
cases, to be postponed to that urgency. Whether, by the nature
of things, co-operation of some sort will always be necessary, is a
question we are scarcely competent to decide. At present, to
pull down a tree, to cut a canal, to navigate a vessel, require the
labour of many. Will they always require the labour of many ?
When we recollect the complicated machines of human con-
trivance, various sorts of mills, of weaving engines, steam en-
gines, are we not astonished at the compendium of labour they
produce ? Who shall say where this species of improvement
must stop ? At present, such inventions alarm the labouring part
of the community; and they may be productive of temporary
distress, though they conduce in the sequel to the most important
interests of the multitude. But, in a state of equal labour, their
utility will be liable to no dispute. Hereafter it is by no means
clear, that the most extensive operations will not be within the
reach of one man ; or, to make use of a familiar instance, that a
plough may not be turned into a field, and perform its office with-
out the need of superintendence. It was in this sense that the
celebrated Franklin conjectured, that " mind would one day be-
come omnipotent over matter."*
The conclusion of the progress which has here been sketched,
is something like a final close to the necessity of manual labour.
It may be instructive in such cases, to observe how the sublime
geniuses of former times anticipated what seems likely to be the
future improvement of mankind. It was one of the laws of Ly-
curgus, that no Spartan should be employed in manual labour.
For this purpose, under his system, it was necessary that they
should be plentifully supplied with slaves devoted to drudgery.
Matter, or, to speak more accurately, the certain and unintermitting
laws of the universe, will bo the Helots of the period we are
* I have uo authority to quote for this expression but the conversation of
Doctor Trice. I am happy to find, upon enquiry, that Mr. William Morgan,
the nephew of Dr. Price, and editor of his works, distinctly recollects to have
heard it from his uucle.
31 YOL. II B
242 OF CO-OPERATION,
contemplating. We shall end in this respect, oh immortal legis-
lator ! at the point from which you began.
To return to the subject of co-operation. It may be a curious
speculation to attend to the progressive steps, by which this feature
of human society may be expected to decline. For example :
shall we have concerts of music? The miserable state of me-
chanism of the majority of the performers is so conspicuous, as
to be even at this day a topic of mortification and ridicule. Will
it not be practicable hereafter for one man to perform the whole ?
Shall we have theatrical exhibitions ? This seems to include an
absurd and vicious co-operation. It may be doubted whether men
will hereafter come forward in any mode, formally to repeat
words and ideas that are not their own ? It may be doubted
whether any musical performer will habitually execute the com-
positions of others ? We yield supinely to the superior merit of
our predecessors, because we are accustomed to indulge the inac-
tivity of our faculties. All formal repetition of other men's ideas
seems to be a scheme for imprisoning, for so long a time, the
operations of our own mind. It borders perhaps in this respect,
upon a breach of sincerity, which requires that we should give
immediate utterance to every useful and valuable idea that
occurs.
Having ventured to state these hints and conjectures, let us en-
deavour to mark the limits of individuality. Every man that re-
ceives an impression from any external object, has the current of
his own thoughts modified by force ; and yet, without external
impressions, we should be nothing. Every man that reads the
composition of another, suffers the succession of his ideas to be,
in a considerable degree, under the direction of his author. But
it does not seem as if this would ever form a sufficient objection
against reading. One man will always have stored up reflections
and facts that another wants; and mature and digested discourse
will perhaps always, in equal circumstances, be superior to that
which is extempore. Conversation is a species of co-operation,
one or the other party always yielding to have his ideas guided by
the other : yet conversation, and the intercourse of mind with
mind, seem to be the most fertile sources of improvement. It is
here as it is with punishment. He that, in the gentlest manner,
undertakes to reason another out of his vices, will probably oc-
casion pain ; but this species of punishment ought, upon no ac-
count, to be superseded.
Let not these views of the future individuality of man be mis-
apprehended or overstrained. We ought to be able to do with-
out one another. He is the most perfect man to whom society is
not a necessary of life, but a luxury, innocent and enviable, in
which he joyfully indulges. Such a man will not fly to society,
as to something requisite for the consuming of his time, or the
refuge of his weakness. In .society he will find pleasure ; the
temper of his mind will prepare him for friendship and for love.
But he will resort with a scarcely inferior eagerness to solitude ?
COHABITATION, AND MARRIAGE. 243
and will find in it the highest complacence and the purest
delight.
Another article which belongs to the subject of co-operation, is
cohabitation. The evils attendant on this practice are obvious. la
order to the human understanding's being successfully cultivated,
it is necessary that the intellectual operations of men should be
independent of each other.* We should avoid such practices as
are calculated to melt our opinions into a common mould. Co-
habitation is also hostile to that fortitude which should accustom
a man, in his actions as well as in his opinions, to judge for him-
self, and feel competent to the discharge of his own duties. Add
to this, that it is absurd to expect the inclinations and wishes of
two human beings to coincide, through any long period of time.
To oblige them to act and to live together, is to subject them to
some inevitable portion of thwarting, bickering, and unhappiness.
This cannot be otherwise, so long as men shall continue to vary
in their habits, their preferences, and their views. No man is al-
ways cheerful and kind ; and it is better that his fits of irritation,
should subside of themselves, since the mischief in that case is
more limited, and since the jarring of opposite tempers, and the
suggestions of a wounded pride, tend inexpressibly to increase
the irritation. When I seek to correct the defects of a stranger,
it is with urbanity and good humour. I have no idea of convinc-
ing him through the medium of surliness and invective. But
something of this kind inevitably obtains, where the intercourse
is too unremitted.
The subject of cohabitation is particularly interesting, as it in-
cludes in it the subject of marriage. It will therefore be proper
to pursue the enquiry in greater detail. The evil of marriage, as
it is practised in European countries, extends further than we
have yet described. The method is, for a thoughtless and
romantic youth of each sex, to come together, to see each other,
for a few times, and under circumstances full of delusion, and
then to vow eternal attachment. What is the consequence of
this ? In almost every instance they find themselves deceived.
They are reduced to make the best of an irretrievable mistake.
They are led to conceive it their wisest policy to shut their eyes
upon realities, happy if, by any perversion of intellect, they can
persuade themselves that they were right in their first crude
opinion of each other. Thus the institution of marriage is made
a system of fraud ; and men who carefully mislead their judg-
ments in the daily affair of their life, must be expected to have a
crippled judgment in every other concern.
Add to this that marriage, as now understood, is a monopoly,
and the worst of monopolies. So long as two human beings are
forbidden, by positive institution, to follow the dictates of their
own mind, prejudice will be alive and vigorous. So long as I
seek, by despotic and artificial means, to maintain my possession
* Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. III., p. 137.
R2
244 OF CO-OPERATION,
of a woman, I am guilty of the most odious selfishness. Over
this imaginary prize men watch with perpetual jealousy; and
one man finds his desire and his capacity to circumvent as much
excited, as the other is excited to traverse his projects and frus-
trate his hopes. As long as this state of society continues, phi-
lanthropy Avill be crossed and checked in a thousand ways, and
the still augmenting stream of abuse will continue to flow.
The abolition of the present system of marriage appears to in-
volve no evils. We are apt to represent that abolition to our-
selves, as the harbinger of brutal lust and depravity. But it
really happens in this, as in other cases, that the positive laws
which are made to restrain our vices, irritate and multiply them.
Not to say that the same sentiments of justice and happiness
which, in a state of equality, would destroy our relish for expen-
sive gratifications, might be expected to decrease our inordinate
appetites of every kind, and to lead us universally to prefer the
pleasures of intellect to the pleasures of sense.
It is a question of some moment, whether the intercourse of
the sexes, in a reasonable state of society, would be promiscuous,
or whether each man would select for himself a partner, to whom
he will adhere as long as that adherence shall continue to be the
choice of both parties. Probability seems to be greatly in favour
of the latter. Perhaps this side of the alternative is most favour-
able to population. Perhaps it would suggest itself in preference
to the man who would wish to maintain the several propensities
of his frame, in the order due to their relative importance, and to
prevent a merely sensual appetite from engrossing excessive at-
tention. It is scarcely to be imagined, that this commerce, in
any state of society, will be stripped of its adjuncts, and that men
will as willingly hold it with a woman whose personal and mental
qualities they disapprove, as with one of a different description.
But it is the nSture of the human mind to persist, for a certain
length of time, in its opinion or choice. The parties, therefore,
having acted upon selection, are not likely to forget this selection
when the interview is over. Friendship, if by friendship we
understand that affection for an individual which is measured
singly by what we know of his .worth, is one of the most ex-
quisite gratifications, perhaps one of the most improving exer-
cises of a rational mind. Friendship therefore may be expected
to come in aid of the sexual intercourse, to refine its grossness
and increase its delight. All these arguments are calculated to
determine our judgment in favour of marriage as a salutary and
respectable institution, but not of that species of marriage in
which there is no room for repentance, and to which liberty and
hope are equally strangers.
Admitting these principles therefore as the basis of the sexual
commerce, what opinion ought we form respecting infidelity to
this attachment ? Certainly no ties ought to be imposed upon
either party, preventing them from quitting the attachment,
whenever their judgment directs them to quit it. With respect
OF CO-OPERATION, 245
to such infidelities as are compatible with an intention to adhere
to it, the point of principal importance is a determination to have
recourse to no species of disguise. In ordinary cases, and where
the periods of absence are of no long duration, it would seem,
that any inconstancy would reflect some portion of discredit on
the person that practised it. It would argue that the person's
propensities were not under that kind of subordination, which
virtiie and self-government appear to prescribe. But incon-
stancy, like any other temporary dereliction, would not be found
incompatible with a character of uncommon excellence. What,
at present, renders it, in many instances, peculiarly loathsome, is
its being practised in a clandestine manner. It leads to a train
of falsehood and a concerted hypocrisy, than which there is
scarcely any thing that more eminently deprives and degrades
the human mind.
The mutual kindness of persons of an opposite sex will, in
such a state, fall under the same system as any other species of
friendship. Exclusively of groundless and obstinate attachments,
it will be impossible for me to live in the world, without finding
in one man a worth superior to that of another. To this man I
shall feel kindness, in exact proportion to my apprehension of his
worth. The case will be the same with respect to the other sex.
I shall assiduously cultivate the intercourse of that woman, whose
moral and intellectual accomplishments strike me in the most
powerful manner. But " it may happen, that other men will
feel for her the same preference that I do." This will create no
difficulty. We may all enjoy her conversation ; and, her choice
being declared, we shall all be wise enough to consider the sexual
commerce as unessential to our regard. It is a mark of the ex-
treme depravity of our present habits, that we are inclined to
suppose the sexual commerce necessary to the advantages arising
from the purest friendship. It is by no means indispensible, that
the female to whom each man attaches himself in that matter,
should appear to each the most deserving and excellent of her
sex.
Let us consider the way in which this state of society will
modify education. It may be imagined, that the abolition of the
present system of marriage, would make education, in a certain
sense, the aifair of the public ; though, if there be any truth in
the reasonings of this work, to provide for it by the positive
institutions of a community, would be extremely inconsistent
with the true principles of an intellectual nature.* Education
may be regarded as consisting of various branches. First, the
personal cares which the helpless state of an infant requires.
These will probably devolve upon the mother; unless, by fre-
quent parturition, or by the nature of these cares, that be found
to render her share of the burthen unequal ; and then it will be
amicably and willingly participated by others. Secondly, food
Book VI., Chap. VIII.
246 COHABITATION AND MARRIAGE.
and other necessary supplies. These will easily find their true
level, and spontaneously flow, from the quarter in which they
abound, to the quarter that is deficient. Lastly, the term educa-
tion may be used to signify instruction. The task of instruction,
under such a form of society, will be greatly simplified and alter-
ed from what it is at present. It will then scarcely be thought
more necessary to make boys slaves, than to make men so. The
business will not then be, to bring forward so many adepts in the
egg-shell, that the vanity of parents may be flattered by hearing
their praises. No man will think of vexing with premature
learning the feeble and inexperienced, lest, when they come to
years of discretion, they should refuse to be learned. The mind
will be suffered to expand itself, in proportion as occasion and
impression shall excite it, and not tortured .and enervated by
being cast in a particular mould. No creature in human form
will be expected to learn anything, but because he desires it, and
has some conception of its value ; and every man, in proportion
to his capacity, will be ready to furnish such general hints and
comprehensive views, as will suffice for the guidance and encou-
ragement of him who studies from the impulse of desire.
These observations lead us to the consideration of one addi-
tional difficulty, which relates to the division of labour. Shall
each man manufacture his tools, furniture and accommodations ?
This would perhaps be a tedious operation. Every man per-
forms the task to which he is accustomed, more skilfully, and in
a shorter time than another. It is reasonable that you should
make for me, that which perhaps I should be three or four times
as long in making, and should make imperfectly at last. Shall
we then introduce barter and exchange ? By no means. The
moment I require any further reason for supplying you, than the
cogency of your claim, the moment, in addition to the dictates of
benevolence, I demand a prospect of reciprocal advantage to
myself, there is an end of that political justice and pure society
of which we treat.
The division of labour, as it has been developed by commercial
writers, is the offspring of avarice. It has been found that ten.
pei'sons can make two hundred and forty times as many pins in a
day as one person.* This refinement is the growth of monopoly.
The object is, to see into how vast a surface the industry of the
lower classes may be beaten, the more completely to gild over the
indolent and the proud. The ingenuity of the merchant is
whetted, by new improvements of this sort to transport more of
the wealth of the powerful into his coffers. The practicability of
effecting a compendium of labour by this means, will be greatly
diminished, when men shall learn to deny themselves partial
superfluities. The utility of such a saving of labour, where
labour shall be changed from a burthen into an amusement, will
scarcely balance the evils of so extensive a co-operation. From
* Smith's AYealth of Nations, Book L, Chap. I.
OBJECTION FROM 247
what has been said it appears, that there will be a division of
labour, if we compare the society in question with the state of the
solitaire and the savage. But it will produce an extensive sim-
plification of labour, if we compare it with that to which we are at
present accustomed in civilised Europe.
CHAP. IX.
OBJECTION TO THIS SYSTEM FROM THE PRINCIPLE OF POPULATION.
Objection stated. Opinions that have been entertained on this subject.
Population adapted to find its own level. Precautions that have been
exerted to check it. Conclusion.
AN author who* has speculated widely upon subjects of govern-
ment,* has recommended equality, (or, which was rather his
idea, a community of goods to be maintained by the vigilance of
the state) as a complete remedy for the usurpation and distress
which are, at present, the most powerful enemies of human kind ; '
for the vices which infect education in some instances, and the
neglect it encounters in more ; for all the turbulence of passion,
and all the injustice of selfishness. But, after having exhibited
this brilliant picture, he finds an argument that demolishes the
whole, and restores him to indifference or despair, in " the ex-
cessive population that would ensue."
The question of population, as it relates to the science of politics
and society, is considerably curious. Several writers upon these
topics, have treated it in a way calculated to produce a very
gloomy impression, and have placed precautions to counteract the
multiplication of the human species, among the most important
objects of civil prudence. These precautions appear to have
occupied much attention in several ancient nations, among whom
there prevailed a great solicitude, that the number of citizens in
the state should suffer no augmentation. In modern times a
contrary opinion has frequently obtained, and the populousness
of a country has been said to constitute its true wealth and pros-
perity.
Perhaps however, express precautions in either kind, are super-
fluous and nugatory. There is a principle in the nature of
human society, by means of which every thing seems to tend to
its level, and to proceed in the most auspicious way, when least
interfered with by the mode of regulation. In a certain stage of
the social progress, population seems rapidly to increase; this
appears to be the case in the United States of America. la a
* Wallace : Various Prospects of Mankind, Nature and Providence, 1TGL
248 THE PRINCIPLES OF POPULATION.
subsequent stage, it undergoes little change, either in the way of
increase or diminution; this is the case in the more civilised
countries of Europe. The number of inhabitants in a country
will perhaps never be found, in the ordinary course of aifairs,
greatly to increase, beyond the facility of subsistence.
Nothing is more easy than to account for this circumstance.
So long as there is a facility of subsistence, men will be encou-
raged to early marriages, and to a careful rearing of their chil-
dren. In America, it is said, men congratulate themselves upon
the increase of their families, as upon a new accession of wealth.
The labour of their children, even in an early stage, soon re-
deems, and even repays with interest, the expense and effort of
rearing them. In such countries the wages of the labourer are
high, for the number of labourers bears no proportion to the
demand, and to the general spirit of enterprise. In many Eu-
ropean countries, on the other hand, a large family has become a
proverbial expression for an uncommon degree of poverty and
wretchedness. The price of labour in any state, so long as the
spirit of accumulation shall prevail, is aai infallible barometer of
the state of its population. It is impossible where the price of
labour is greatly reduced, and an added population threatens a
still further reduction, that men should not be considerably under
the influence of fear, respecting an early marriage, and a nu-
merous family.
There are various methods, by the practice of which population
may be checked; by the exposing of children, as among the
ancients, and, at this day, in China; by the art of procuring
abortion, as it is said to subsist in the island of Ceylon; by a
promiscuous intercourse of the sexes, which is found extremely
hostile to the multiplication of the species ; or, lastly, by a syste-
matical abstinence, such as must be supposed, in some degree, to
prevail in monasteries of either sex. But, without any express
institution of this kind, the encouragement or discouragement
that arises from the general state of a community, will probably be
found to be all-powerful in its operation.
Supposing however that popiilation were not thus adapted to
find its own level, it is obvious to remark upon the objection of
this chapter, that to reason thus, is to foresee difficulties at a
great distance. Three fourths of the habitable globe are now
uncultivated. The improvements to be made in cultivation, and
the augmentations the earth is capable of receiving in the article
of productiveness, cannot, as yet, be reduced to any limits of cal-
culation. Myriads of centuries of still increasing population may
pass away, and the earth be yet found sufficient for the support
of its inhabitants. It were idle therefore to conceive discourage-
ment from so distant a contingency. The rational anticipations
of human improvement are unlimited, not eternal. The very
globe that we inhabit, and the solar system, may, for any thing
that we know, be subject to decay. Physical casualties of dif-
ferent denominations, may interfere with the progressive nature
OF HEALTH, ETC. 249
of intellect. But, putting these out of the question, it is cer-
tainly most reasonable, to commit so remote a danger to the
chance of such remedies (remedies, of which perhaps we may,
at this time, not have the smallest idea) as shall suggest them-
selves, at a period sufficiently early for their practical application.
Appendix.
OF HEALTH, AND THE PROLONGATION OF HUMAN LIFE.
Omnipotence of mind. Application of this principle to the animal
frame. Causes of decrepitude. Theory of voluntary and inionlun-
tary action. Present utility of these reasonings. Recapitulation.
Application to the future state of society.
THE question respecting population is, in some decree, connected
with the subject of health and longevity. It may therefore be al-
lowed us, to make use of this occasion, for indulging in certain
speculations upon this article. What follows must be considered
as eminently a deviation into the land of conjecture. If it be
false, it leaves the system to which it is appended, in all sound
reason, as impregnable as ever.
Let us then, in this place, return to the sublime conjecture of
Franklin, a man habitually conversant with the system of the ex-
ternal universe, and by no means propense to extravagant specu-
lations, that " mind will one day become omnipotent over matter." *
The sense which he annexed to this expression, seems to have re-
lated to the improvements of human invention, in relation to
machines and the compendium of labour. But, if the power of
intellect can be established over all other matter, are we not
inevitably led to ask, why not over the matter of our own bodies ?
If over matter, at however great a distance, why not over matter
which, ignorant as we may be of the tie that connects it with the
thinking principle, we seem always to carry about with us, and
which is our medium of communication with the external uni-
verse ?
The different cases in which thought modifies the structure and
members of the human body, are obvious to all. First, they are
modified by our voluntary thoughts or design. We desire to
stretch out our hand, and it is stretched out. We perform a thou-
sand operations of the same species every day, and their familiarity
annihilates the wonder. They are not in themselves less wonder-
* Chap. VIII., Appendix, p. 241. The authors, who have published their
conjectures respecting the possibility of extending the term of human life,
are many. The most illustrious of these is probably Lord Bacon ; the most
recent is Condorcet, in his Outlines of a History of the Progress of the Human
Mind, published since the first appearance of this work. These authors
however have inclined to rest their hopes, rather upon the growing perfection
of art, than, as is here done, upon the immediate and unavoidable operation
of an improved intellect.
250 OF HEALTH, AND THE
ful, than any of those modifications we are least accustomed to
conceive. Secondly, mind modifies body involuntarily. To omit,
for the present, what has been offered upon this subject by way of
hypothesis and inference,* there are many instances in -which this
fact presents itself in the most unequivocal manner. Has not a
sudden piece of good news been frequently found to dissipate a
corporeal indisposition ? Is it not still more usual for mental im-
pressions to produce indisposition, and even what is called a
broken heart ? And shall we believe that that which is so power-
ful in mischief, can be altogether impotent for happiness ? How
common is the remark, that those accidents, which are to the in-
dolent a source of disease, are forgotten and extirpated in the
busy and active ? I walk twenty miles in an indolent and half-
determined temper, and am extremely fatigued. I walk twenty
miles, full of ardour, and with a motive that engrosses my soul, and
I arrive as fresh and alert as when I began my journey. Emo-
tion, excited by some unexpected word, by a letter that is de-
livered to us, occasions the most extraordinary revolutions in our
frame, accelerates the circulation, causes the heart to palpitate,
the tongue to refuse its office, and has been known to occasion
death by extreme anguish or extreme joy. There is nothing of
which the physician is more frequently aware, than of the power
of the mind in assisting or retarding convalescence.
Why is it that a mature man loses that elasticity of limb, which
characterises the heedless gaiety of youth ? The origin of this
appears to be, that he desists from youthful habits. He assumes
an air of dignity, incompatible with the lightness of childish
sallies. He is visited and vexed with the cares that rise out
of our mistaken institutions, and his heart is no longer satisfied
and gay. His limbs become stiff, unwieldy, and awkward. This
is the forerunner of old age and of death.
A habit peculiarly favourable to corporeal vigour, is cheerful-
ness. Every time that our mind becomes morbid, vacant, and
melancholy, our external frame falls into disorder. Listlessness
of thought is the brother of death. But cheerfulness gives new
elasticity to our limbs, and circulation to our juices. Nothing
can long be stagnant in the frame of him whose heart is tranquil,
and his imagination active.
A further requisite in the case of which we treat, is clear and
distinct apprehension. Disease seems perhaps in all instances to
be the concomitant of confusion. When reason resigns the helm,
and our ideas fluctuate without order or direction, we sleep.
Delirium and insanity are of the same nature. Fainting appears
principally to consist in a relaxation of intellect, so that the
ideas seem to mix in painful disorder, and nothing is distinguish-
ed. He that continues to act, or is led to a renewal of action with
perspicuity and decision, is almost inevitably a man in health.
The surest source of cheerfulness is benevolence. To a youth-
* Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. IX.
PROLONGATION OF HUMAN LIFE. 251
ful mind, while everything strikes with its novelty, the individual
situation must be peculiarly unfortunate, if gaiety of thought be
not produced, or, when interrupted, do not speedily return with
its healing virtue. But novelty is a fading charm, and perpetu-
ally decreases. Hence the approach of inanity and listlessness.
After we have made a certain round, life delights no mare. A
death-like apathy invades us. Thus the aged are generally cold
and indifferent ; nothing interests their attention, or rouses their
sluggishness. How should it be otherwise? The objects of
human pursuit are commonly frigid and contemptible, and the
mistake comes at last to be detected. But virtue is a charm that
never fades. The mind that overflows with kindness and sym-
pathy, will always be cheerful. The man who is perpetually
busied in contemplations of public good, can scarcely be inactive.
Add to this, that a benevolent temper is peculiarly irreconcileable
with those sentiments of anxiety, discontent, rage, revenge, and
despair, which so powerfully corrode the frame, and hourly con-
sign their miserable victims to an untimely grave.
Thus far we have discoursed of a negative power which, if suf-
ficiently exercised, would, it is to be presumed, eminently tend to
the prolongation of human life. But there is a power of another
description, which seems entitled to our attention in this respect.
We have frequently had occasion to point out the distinction be-
tween OUT voluntary and involuntary motions.* We have seen
that they are continually running into each other ; our involun-
tary motions gradually becoming subject to the power of volition,
and our voluntary motions degenerating into involuntary. We
concluded in an early part of this work,f and that, as it should
seem, with sufficient reason, that the true perfection of man was
to attain, as nearly as possible, to the perfectly voluntary state ;
that we ought to be, upon all occasions, prepared to render a rea-
son of our actions ; and should remove ourselves to the furthest
distance, from the state of mere inanimate machines, acted upon
by causes of which they have no understanding.
Our involuntary motions are frequently found gradually to be-
come subject to the power of volition. It seems impossible to set
limits to this species of metamorphosis. Its reality cannot be
questioned, when we consider that every motion of the human
frame was originally involuntary. J Is it not then highly probable,
in the process of human improvement, that we may finally obtain
an empire over every articulation of our frame ? The circulation
of the blood is a motion, in our present state, eminently involun-
tary. Yet nothing is more obvious, than that certain thoughts,
and states of the thinking faculty, are calculated to affect this
process. Reasons have been adduced which seem to lead to an
opinion, that thought and Jinimal motion are, in all cases, to be
considered as antecedent and consequent. We can now per-
* Vol. I., Book I., Chap. V ; Book IV., Chnp. VII., X.
+ Vol. I., Book I , Chap. V., s. 2. + Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. IX.. p. 193.
I Vol. I., Book IV. Chap. IX.
OF HEALTH, AKD THE
haps by an effort of the mind correct certain commencing irregu-
larities of the s} r stem, and forbid, in circumstances where those
phenomena would otherwise appear, the heart to palpitate, and
the limbs to tremble. The voluntary power of some men over
their animal frame, is found to extend to -various articles, in
which other men are impotent.
A further probability will be reflected upon these conjectures,
if we recollect the picture which was formerly exhibited,* of the
rapidity of the succession of ideas. If we can have a series of
three hundred and twenty ideas in a second of time, why should
it be supposed that we may net hereafter arrive at the skill of
carrying on a great number of contemporaneous processes with-
out disorder ?
Nothing can be more irreconcileable to analogy, than to con-
clude, because a certain species of power is beyond the train of
our present observations, that it is beyond the limits of the human
mind.f We talk familiarly indeed of the extent of our faculties ;
and our vanity prompts us to suppose that we have reached the
goal of human capacity. But there is little plausibility in so arro-
gant an assumption. If it could have been told to the savage in-
habitants of Europe in the times of Theseus and Achilles, that
man was capable of predicting eclipses and weighing the air,
of reducing to settled rules the phenomena of nature so that no
prodigies should remain, and of measuring the distance and size
of the heavenly bodies, this would not have appeared to them less
incredible, than if we had told them of the possibility of maintain-
ing the human body in perpetual youth and vigour. But we have
not only this analogy, showing that the discovery in question
forms, as it were, a regular branch of the acquisitions that belong
to an intellectual nature; but, in addition to this, we seem to
have a glimpse of the manner in which the acquisition will be
secured.
One remark may be proper in this place. If the remedies here
proposed tend to a total extirpation of the infirmities of our
nature, then, though we should not be able to promise them an
early or complete success, we may probably find them of some
utility. They may contribute to prolong our vigour, if not to im-
mortalise it, and, which is of more consequence, to make us live
while AVC live. Every time the mind is invaded with anguish and
gloom, the frame becomes disordered. Every time languor and
indifference creep upon us, our functions fall into decay. In pro-
portion as we cultivate fortitude and equanimity, our circu-
lations will be cheerful. In proportion as we cultivate a kind
and benevolent propensity, we maybe secure of finding something
to interest and engage us.
Medicine may reasonably be stated to consist of two branches,
animal and intellectual. The latter of these has been infinitely
too much neglected. It cannot be employed to the purposes of a
. * Vol. L, Er-ok IV., Chap. IX., p. 107. + Vol. I., Book I., Chap. VIII.
PROLONGATION OF HUMAN LIFE. 253
profession : or, where it has been incidentally so employed, it has
been artificially and indirectly, not in an open and avowed man-
ner. " Herein the patient must minister to himself."* It would
no doubt be of extreme moment to us, to be thoroughly ac-
quainted with the power of motives, perseverance, and what is
called resolution in this respect.
The sum of the arguments which have been here offered>-
amounts to a species of presumption that the term of human life
may be prolonged, and that by the immediate operation of intel-
lect, beyond any limits which we are able to assign. It would be
idle to talk of the absolute immortality of man. Eternity and im-
mortality are phrases to which it is impossible for us to annex any
distinct ideas, and the more we attempt to explain them, the more
we shall find ourselves involved in contradiction.
To apply these remarks to the subject of population. One ten-
dency of a cultivated and virtuous mind is to diminish our eager-
ness for the gratifications of the senses. They please at present
by their novelty, that is, because we know not how to estimate
them. They decay in the decline of life indirectly, because the
system refuses them, but directly and principally because they no
longer excite the ardour of the mind. The gratifications of sense
please at present by their imposture. \Ve soon learn to despise
the mere animal function which, apart from the delusions of in-
tellect, would be nearly the same in all cases ; and to value it only
as it happens to be relieved by personal charms or mental ex-
cellence.
The men therefore whom we are supposing to exist, when the
earth shall refuse itself to a more extended population, will pro-
bably cease to propagate. The whole will be a people of men,
and not of children. Generation will not succeed generation, nor
truth have, in a certain degree, to recommence her career every
thirty years. Other improvements maybe expected to keep pace
with those of health and longevity. There will be no war,
no crimes, no administration of justice, as it is called, and no go-
vernment. Beside this, there will be neither disease, anguish,
melancholy, nor resentment. Every man will seek, with ineffable
ardour, the good of all. Mind will be active and eager, yet never
disappointed. Men will see the progressive advancement of vir-
tue and good, and feel that, if things occasionally happen contrary
to their hopes, the miscarriage itself was a necessary part of that
progress. They will know that they are members of the chain,
that each has his several utility, and they will not feel indifferent
to that utility. They will be eager to enquire into the good that
already exists, the means by which it was produced, and the
greater good that is yet in store. They will never want motives
for exertion; for that benefit which a man thoroughly under-
stands and earnestly loves, he cannot refrain from endeavouring
to promote.
* Shakespear : Macbeth, Act V.
254 REFLECTIONS.
Before we dismiss this subject it is proper once again to remind
the reader, that the substance of this appendix is given only as
matter of probable conjecture, and that the leading argument of
this division of the work is altogether independent of its truth or
falsehood.
CHAP. X.
REFLECTIONS.
I. Supposed danger in disseminating levelling principles. Idea of mas-
sacre. Qualification of this idea. Sceptical suggestions. Means of
suppressing enquiry. Nature of political science. II. Political
duties, 1. of those who are qualified f&r public instructors temper
sincerity. Pernicious effects of dissimulation in this case. 2. of the
rich and great. Many of them may be expected to be advocates of
equality. Conduct which their interest as a body prescribes. 3. of
the friends of equality in general. Importance of a mild and bene-
volent proceeding. III. Connexion between liberty and equality.
Cause of equality will perpetually advance. SymjJtoms of its pro-
gress. Idea of its future success. Conclusion.
WE have now taken a general survey of the system of equality,
and there remains only to state a few incidental remarks, with
which it may be proper to wind up the subject.
No idea has excited greater horror in the minds of a multitude
of persons, than that of the mischiefs that will ensue from the
dissemination of what they call levelling principles. They believe
"that these principles will inevitably ferment in the minds of the
vulgar, and that the attempt to carry them into execution will be
attended with every species of calamity." They represent to
themselves "the uninformed and uncivilised part of mankind, as
let loose from restraint, and hurried into every kind of excess.
Knowledge and taste, the improvements of intellect, the dis-
coveries of sages, the beauties of poetry and art, arc trampled
under foot and extinguished by barbarians. It is another inun-
dation of Goths and Vandals, with this bitter aggravation, that
the viper that stings us to death was fostered in our own bosom."
They conceive the scene as beginning in massacre. They suppose
" all that is great, pre-eminent, and illustrious as ranking among
the first victims. Such as are distinguished by peculiar refine-
ment of manners, or energy of understanding and virtue, will be
the inevitable objects of envy and jealousy. Such as intrepidly
exert themselves to succour the persecuted, or to declare to the
public what they are least inclined, but is most necessary for
them to hear, will be marked out for assassination."
REFLECTIONS. 255
Whatever may be the abstract recommendations of the system
of equality, we must not allow ourselves any such partiality upon
a subject in which the welfare of the species is involved, as should
induce us to shrink from a due attention to the ideas here exhi-
bited. Massacre is the too possible attendant upon revolution,
and massacre is perhaps the most hateful scene, allowing for its
momentary duration, that any imagination can suggest. The fear-
ful, hopeless expectation of the defeated, and the blood-hound
fury of their conquerors, is a complication of mischief that all
which has been told of infernal regions can scarcely surpass.
The cold-blooded massacres that are perpetrated under the name
of criminal justice, fall short of these in some of their most fright-
ful aggravations. The ministers and instruments of law, have by
custom reconciled their minds to the dreadful task they perform,
and often bear their parts in the most shocking enormities with-
out being sensible to the passions allied to these enormities.
They do not always accompany their murders with the rudeness
of an insulting triumph ; and, as they conduct themselves, in a
certain sort, by known principles of injustice, the evil we have
reason to apprehend has its limits. But the instruments of mas-
sacre are discharged from every restraint. Whatever their caprice
dictates, their hands are instantly employed to perpetrate. Their
eyes emit flashes of cruelty and rage. They pursue their victims
from street to street and from house to house. They tear them
from the arms of their fathers and their wives. They glut them-
selves with barbarity, and utter shouts of horrid joy at the spec-
tacle of tortures.
In answer to this representation it has sometimes been alleged
by the friends of reform, "that the advantages possessed by a sys-
tem of liberty are so great, as to be worth purchasing at any price ;
that the evils of the most sanguinary revolution are temporary;
that the vices of despotism, which few pens indeed have ventured
to record in all their demerits, are scarcely less atrocious in the
hour of their commission, and infinitely more terrible by their ex-
tent and duration ; and finally, that the crimes perpetrated in a
revolutionary movement, can in no just estimate be imputed to
the innovators ; that they were engendered by the preceding op-
pression, and ought to be regarded as the last struggles of expir-
ing tyranny."
But, not to repeat arguments that have already been fully ex-
hibited,* it must be recollected, that "the benefits which inno-
vation may seem to promise, are not to be regarded as certain.
After all, it may not be utterly impossible, that the nature of man
will always remain, for the most part, unaltered, and that he will
be found incapable of that degree of knowledge and constancy,
which seems essential to a liberal democracy or a pure equality.
However cogent may be the arguments for the practicability of
human improvement, is it then justifiable upon the mere credit of
Vol. I., Book IV., Cap. I., II.
256 REFLECTIONS.
predictions, to expose mankind to the greatest calamities ? Who
that has a just conception of the nature of human understanding-,
will vindicate such a proceeding ? A careful enquirer is always
detecting his past errors ; each year of his life produces a severe
comment upon the opinions of the last ; he suspects all his judg-
ments, and is certain of none. We wander in the midst of ap-
pearances ; and plausible appearances are to be found on all sides.
The wisest men perhaps have generally proved the most confirm-
ed sceptics. Speculations therefore upon the new modes in which
human affairs may be combined, different from any that occur in
the history of past ages, may seem fitter to amuse men of acute-
ness and leisure, than to be depended on in deciding the dearest
interests of mankind. Proceedings, the effects of which have
been verified by experience, furnish a surer ground of depend-
ence than the most laboured reason can afford us in regard to
schemes as yet untried.''
Undoubtedly in the views here detailed there is considerable
force ; and it would be well if persons, who are eager to effect
abrupt changes in human society, would give them an attentive
consideration. They do not however sufficiently apply to the
question proposed to be examined. Our enquiry was not re-
specting revolution, but disquisition. We are not concerned to
vindicate any species of violence ; we do not assume that levelling
principles are to be acted upon through the medium of force ; we
have simply affirmed that he who is persuaded of their truth,
ought to endeavour to render them a subject of attention. To be
convinced of this we have only to consider the enormous and un-
questionable political evils that are daily before our eyes, and the
probability there is that, by temperate investigation, these evils
may be undermined with little or no tumultuary concussion.* In
every affair of human life we are obliged to act upon a simple
probability ; and therefore, while it is highly worthy of a con-
scientious philanthropist to recollect the universal uncertainty of
opinion, he is bound not to abstain from acting, with caution and
sobriety, upon the judgments of his understanding, from a fear
lest, at the time that he intends to produce benefit, he should un-
intentionally be the occasion of evil.
But there is another consideration worthy of serious attention
in this place. Granting, for a moment, the utmost weight to the
objections of those who remind us of the mischief of political
experiments, it is proper to ask, Can we suppress discussion?
Can we arrest the progress of the enquiring mind ? If we can,
it must be by the most unmitigated despotism. Intellect has a
perpetual tendency to proceed. It cannot be held back, but by
a power that counteracts its genuine tendency, through every
moment of its existence. Tyrannical and sanguinary must be
the measures employed for this purpose. Miserable and disgust-
ful must be the scene they produce. Their result will be bar-
* Vol. I., Book IV., Chap. II.
REFLECTIONS. 257
barism, ignorance, superstition, servility, hypocrisy. This is tho
alternative, so far as there is any alternative in their choice, to
which those who arc empowered to consult for the general welfare
must inevitably resort, if the suppression of enquiry be the
genuine dictate of public interest.
Such has been, for the most part, the policy of governments
through every age of the world. Have we slaves ? We assidu-
ously retain them in ignorance. Have we colonies and depend-
encies ? The great effort of our care is to keep them from being
populous and prosperous. Have we subjects ? It is " by impo-
tence and misery that we endeavour to render them supple :
plenty is fit only to make them unmanageable, disobedient and
mutinous."* If this were the true philosophy of social institu-
tions, well might we shrink from it with horror. How tremendous
an abortion would the human species be, if all that tended to
invigorate their understandings, tended to make them unprincipled
and profligate !
In the mean time it ought not to be forgotten, that to say that
a knowledge of political truth can be injurious to the true interests
of mankind, is to affirm an express contradiction. Political truth is
that science which teaches us to weigh in the balance of an
accurate judgment, the different proceedings that may be adopted,
for the purpose of giving welfare and prosperity to communities
of men. The only way in which discussion can be a reasonable
object of terror, is by its power of giving to falsehood, under cer-
tain circumstances, the speciousness of truth, or by that partial
propagation, the tendency of which is to intoxicate and mislead
those understandings that, by an adequate instruction, would have
been sobered and enlightened.
These considerations will scarcely permit us to doubt, that it
is the duty of governments to maintain the most inflexible
neutrality, and of individuals to publish the truths with which
they appear to be acquainted. The more truth is discovered, the
more it is known in its true dimensions, and not in parts, the less
is it possible that it should coalesce with, or leave room for the
effects of error. The true philanthropist, instead of suppressing
discussion, will be eager to take a share in the scene, to exert the
full strength of his faculties in investigation, and to contribute by
his exertions to render the operation of enquiry at once perspicu-
ous and profound.
The condition of the human species at the present hour is
critical and alarming. We are not without grounds of reasonable
hope, that the issue will be uncommonly beneficial. There is
however much to apprehend, from the narrow views, and angry
passions, of the contending parties. Every interval that can be
gained, provided it is not an interval of torpor and indifference,
is perhaps to be considered in the light of an advantage.
* Book V., Chap. III., p. 1 i.
32. VOL. ii.
258 REFLECTIONS.
Meanwhile, in proportion as the just apprehensions of explosion
shall increase, there are high duties incumbent upon every branch
of the community.
First, upon those who are fitted to be precursors to their fellows
in the discovery of truth.
They are bound to be active, indefatigable and disinterested.
It is incumbent upon them to abstain from inflammatory language,
and expressions of acrimony and resentment. It is absurd in
any government to erect itself into a court of criticism in this
respect, and to establish a criterion of liberality and decorum ;*
but, for that very reason, it is doubly incumbent on those who
communicate their thoughts to the piiblic, to exercise a rigid
censure over themselves. The lessons of liberty and equality
are lessons of good will to all orders of men. They free the
peasant from the iniquity that depresses his mind, and the privi-
leged from the luxury and despotism by which lie is corrupted.
It is disgraceful to those who teach these lessons, if they stain
their benignity, by showing that that benignity has not become
the inmate of their hearts.
Nor is it less necessary that they should express themselves
with explicitness and sincerity. No maxim can be more sus-
picious than that which teaches us to consult the temper of the
times, and tell only as much as we imagine our contemporaries
will be able to bear, f This practice is at present almost universal,
and it will perhaps not be difficult to observe its pernicious effects.
We retail and mangle truth. We impart it to our fellows, not
with the liberal measure with which we have received it, but
with such parsimony as our own miserable pradence may chance
to prescribe. That we may deceive others with a tranquil con-
science, we begin with deceiving ourselves. We put shackles
upon our minds, and dare not trust ourselves at large in the pur-
suit of truth. This practice seems to have been greatly promoted
by the machinations of party, and the desire of one wise and
adventurous leader to lead a troop of w r eak, timid and selfish ad-
herents in his train. There can scarcely be a sufficient reason,
why I should not declare in any assembly upon the face of the
earth, " that I am a republican." There is no more reason to ap-
{rehend that, being a republican under a monarchical government,
shall enter into a desperate faction to invade the public tran-
quillity, than if I were monarchical under a republic. Every
community of men, as well as every individual, must govern itself
according to its ideas of justice. \ What I shoxild desire is, not
by violence to change its institutions, but by discussion to change
its ideas. I have no concern, if I would study merely the public
good, with factions or intrigue ; but simply to promulgate the
truth, and to wait the tranquil progress of conviction. If there
* Book VI, Chap. VI. + Vol. L, Book III., Chap. VII., p. 115.
% Vol. I., Book III., Chap. VII. ; Book IV., Chap. I.
REFLECTIONS. 259
be any assembly that cannot bear this, of such an assembly I
ought to be no member. It probably happens, much oftener than
we are willing to imagine, that " the post of honour," or, which
is better, the post of utility, "is a private station."*
The dissimulation here censured, beside its ill effects upon him
vrho practises it, and, by degrading and unnerving his character,
upon society at large, has a particular ill consequence with respect
to the point we are considering. It lays a mine, and prepares an
explosion. This is the tendency of all unnatural restraint. The
unfettered progress of investigation is perhaps always salutary.
Its advances are gradual, and each step prepares the general
mind for that which is to follow. They are sudden and unpre-
pared, and therefore necessarily partial, emanations of truth, that
have the greatest tendency to deprive men of their sobriety and
self-command. Reserve in this respect is calculated, at once, to
give a rugged and angry tone to the multitude, whenever they
shall happen to discover what is thus concealed, and to mislead
the depositaries of political power. It soothes them into false
security, and prompts them to maintain an inauspicious obstinacy.
Having considered what it is that belongs in such a crisis to
the enlightened and wise, let us next turn our attention to a very
different class of society, the rich and great. And here, in the
first place, it may be remarked, that it is a false calculation that
leads us universally to despair of having these for the advocates
of political justice. Mankind are not so miserably selfish as
satirists and courtiers have supposed. We perhaps never engage
in any action of moment, without having enquired what is the
decision of justice respecting it. We are at all times anxious to
satisfy ourselves that what our inclinations lead us to do, is inno-
cent and right to be done.f Since therefore justice occupies so
large a share in the contemplations of the human mind, it cannot
reasonably be doubted, that a strong and commanding view of
justice, would prove a powerful motive to influence the choice of
that description of men we are now considering. But that virtue
which, for whatever reason, we have chosen, soon becomes re-
commended to us by a thousand other reasons. We find in it
reputation, honour, and self-complacence, in addition to the
recommendations it derives from impartial justice.
The rich and great are fur from callous to views of general
felicity, when such views are brought before them with that evi-
dence" and attraction of which they are susceptible. From one
dreadful disadvantage their minds arc free. They have not been
soured with unrelenting tyranny, or narrowed by the perpetual
pressure of distress. They are peculiarly qualified to judge of
the emptiness of that pomp and those gratifications, which arc
always most admired when they are seen from a distance. Thoy
will frequently be found considerably indifferent to these things,
Addison's Cato, Act IV. t Yol. I., Book I., Chap. V., p. 29.
s2
260 REFLECTIONS.
unless confirmed by habit and rendered inveterate by age. If
you show them the attractions of gallantry and magnanimity in
resigning them, they will often be resigned without reluctance.
Wherever accident of any sort has introduced an active mind,
there enterprise is a necessary consequence ; and there are few
persons so inactive, as to sit down for ever in the supine enjoy-
ment of the indulgences to which they were born. The same
spirit that has led forth the young nobility of successive ages to
encounter the hardships of a camp, might render them the cham-
pions of the cause of equality : nor is it to be believed, that the
consideration of superior virtue in this latter exertion, will be
without its effect.
But let us suppose a considerable party of the rich and great
to be actuated by no view but to their emolument and ease. It
is not difficult to show them, that their interest in this sense will
admit of no more than a temperate and yielding resistance. To
such we may say : " It is in vain for you to fight against truth.
It is like endeavouring with the human hand to stop the inroad
of the ocean. Be wise betimes. Seek your safety in concession.
If you will not come over to the standard of political justice,
temporise at least with an enemy whom you cannot overcome.
Miich, inexpressibly much depends upon you. If your proceed-
ings be moderate and judicious, it is not probable that you will
suffer the privation, even of that injurious indulgence and accom-
modation to which you are so strongly attached. The genuine
progress of political improvement is kind and attentive to the
sentiments of all. It changes the opinions of men by insensible
degrees ; produces nothing by shock and abruptness ; and is far
from requiring the calamity of any. Confiscation, and the pro-
scription of bodies of men, form no branch of its story. These
evils, which by wise and sober men will always be regretted, will
in all probability never occur, unless brought on by your indis-
cretion and obstinacy. Even in the very tempest and fury of
explosion, if such an event shall arise, it may perhaps still be in
your power to make advantageous conditions, and to be little or
nothing sufferers by the change.
"Above all, do not be lulled into a rash and headlong security.
Do not imagine that innovation is not at hand ; or that the spirit
of innovation can be defeated. We have already seen* how
much the hypocrisy and instability of the wise and enlightened of
the present day, those who confess much, and have a confused
view of still more, but dare not examine the whole with a steady
and unshrinking eye. are calculated to increase this security.
But there is a danger still more palpable. Do not be misled by
the unthinking and seemingly general cry of those who have no
fixed principles. Addresses have been found in every age a very
uncertain criterion of the future conduct of a people. Do
* P. 258.
REFLECTIONS. 261
not count upon the numerous train of your adherents, retainers
and servants. They afford a feeble dependence. They are men,
and cannot be unconcerned as to the interests and claims of man-
kind. Some of them will adhere to you, as long as a sordid
interest seems to draw them in that direction. But the moment
yours shall appear to be the losing cause, the same interest
will carry them over to the enemy's standard. They will disap-
pear like the morning's mist.
"Can it be supposed that you are incapable of receiving
impression from another argument ? Will you feel no compunc-
tion at the thought of resisting the greatest of all benefits?
Are you content to be regarded by your impartial contemporaries,
and to be recollected, as long as your memory shall endure, as the
obstinate adversaries of philanthropy and justice ? Can you
reconcile it to your own minds, that, for a sordid interest, for the
cause of general corruption and abuse, you should be found
active in stifling truth, and strangling the new-born happiness
of mankind ?" Would it were possible to make this argument
felt by the enlightened and accomplished advocates of aristocracy !
that they could be persuaded to consult neither passion, nor pre-
judice, nor the reveries of imagination, in deciding so momentous
a question! "We know," I would say, "that truth will be
triumphant, even though you refuse to be her ally. We do not
fear your enmity. But our hearts bleed to see such gallantry,
talents and virtue employed in perpetuating the calamities of
mankind. We recollect with grief that, when the lustre of your
merits shall fill distant generations with astonishment, they
will not be less astonished, that you could be made the dupes
of prejudice, and deliberately surrender the larger portion of the
good you might have achieved, and the unqualified affection that
might have pursued your memory."*
While this sheet is in the press for the third impression, I receive the in-
telligence of the death of Burke, who was principally in the author's
mind, while he penned the preceding sentences. In all that is most exalted
in talents, I regard him as the inferior of no man that ever adorned the face of
earth ; and, in the long record of human genius, I can find for him very few
equals. In subtilty of discrimination, in magnitude of conception, in sa-
gacity and profoundness of judgment, he was never surpassed. But his cha-
racteristic excellencies were vividness and justness of painting, and that
boundless wealth of imagination that adorned the most ungrateful subjects,
and heightened the most interesting. Of this wealth he was too lavish ; and.
though it is impossible for the man of taste not to derive gratification from
almost every one of his images and metaphors while it passes before him, yet
their exuberance subtracts, in no inconsiderable degree, from that irresisti-
bleness and rapidity of general effect, which is the highest excellence of com-
position. No impartial man can recal Burke to his mind, without confessing
the grandeur and integrity of his feelings of morality, and being convinced
that he was eminently both the patriot and the philanthropist. His excellen-
cies however were somewhat tinctured with a vein of dark and saturnine
temper ; so that the same man strangely united a degree of the rude charac-
ter of his native island, with an urbanity and a susceptibility of the kindur
affections, that have rarely been paralleled. But his principal defect consisted
in this ; that the false estimate as to the things entitled to our deference ~ad
262 REFLECTIONS.
To the general mass of the adherents of equality, it may be
proper to address a few words. "If there be any force in
the arguments of this work, we seem authorised to deduce
thus much from them, that truth is irresistible. Let then
this axiom be the rudder of our undertakings. Let us not
precipitately endeavour to accomplish that to-day, which the dis-
semination of truth will make unavoidable to-morrow. Let
us not over-anxiously watch for occasions and events : of parti-
cular events the ascendancy of truth is independent. Let us
anxiously refrain from violence : force is not conviction, and
is extremely unworthy of the cause of justice. Let us admit
into our bosoms neither contempt, animosity, resentment nor
revenge. The cause of justice is the cause of humanity. Its
advocates should be penetrated with universal good-will. We
should love this cause; for it conduces to the general happi-
ness of mankind. We should love it ; for there is not a man
that lives, who, in the natural and tranquil progress of things,
will not be made happier by its approach. The most poAverM
circumstance by which it has been retarded, is the mistake of its
adherents, the air of ruggedness, brutishness and inflexibility
which they have given to that which, in itself, is all benig-
nity. Nothing less than this could have prevented the great mass
of enquirers from bestowing upon "it a patient examination.
Be it the care of the now increasing advocates of equality,
'to remove this obstacle to the success of their cause. We
have but two plain duties, which, if we set out right, it is
not easy to mistake. The first is an unwearied attention to
the great instrument of justice, reason. We should communicate
our sentiments with the utmost frankness. We should endeavour
to press them upon the attention of others. In this we should
give way to no discouragement. We should sharpen our intel-
lectual weapons ; add to the stock of our knowledge ; be per-
vaded with a sense of the magnitude of our cause ; and per-
petually add to that calm presence of mind and self-possession
which must enable us to do justice to our principles. Our
second duty is tranquillity."
It will not be right to pass over a question that will inevitably
suggest itself to the mind of the reader. " If an equalisation
of conditions be to take place, not by law, regulation or public in-
stitution, but only through the private conviction of individuals,
admiration, which could alone render the aristocracy with whom he lived, un-
just to his worth, in some degree infected his own mind. He therefore sought
wealth and plunged in expense, instead of cultivating the simplicity of inde-
pendence ; and he entangled himself with a petty combination of politi-
cal men, instead of reserving his illustrious talents un warped, for the advance-
ment of intellect, and the service of mankind. He has unfortunately left us
a memorable example, of the power of a corrupt system of government, to un-
dermine and divert from their genuine purposes, the noblest faculties
'that have yet been exhibited to the observation of the world.
REFLECTIONS, 263
iii what manner shall it begin ?" In answering this question it is
not necessary to prove so simple a proposition, as that all repub-
licanism, all reduction of ranks and immunities, strongly tends
towards an equalisation of conditions. If men go on to improve
in discernment, and this they certainly will with peculiar rapidity,
when the ill-constructed governments which now retard their
progress arc removed, the same arguments which showed
them the injustice of ranks, will show them the injustice of one
man's wanting that which, while it is in the possession of
another, conduces in no respect to his well-being.
It is a common error to imagine, "that this injustice will
be felt only by the lower orders who suffer from it;" and
from thence to conclude "that it can only be corrected by
violence." But in answer to this it may, in the first place,
be observed that all suffer from it, the rich who engross, as well
as the poor who want. Secondly, it has been endeavoured to be
shown in the course of the present work,* that men are not so en-
tirely governed by self-interest, as has frequently been supposed.
It appears, if possible, still more clearly, that the selfish are
not governed solely by sensual gratification or the love of gain,
but that the desire of eminence and distinction is, in different
forms, an universal passion.f Thirdly and principally, the pro-
gress of truth is the most powerful of all causes. Nothing can be
more improbable than to imagine, that theory, in the best sense of
the word, is not essentially connected with practice. That which,
we can be persuaded clearly and distinctly to approve, will
inevitably modify our conduct. When men shall habitually per-
ceive the folly of individual splendour, and when their neighbours
are impressed with a similar disdain, it will be impossible
they should pursue the means of it with the same avidity as
before.
It will not be difficult to trace, in the progress of modern
Europe from barbarism to refinement, a tendency towards the
equalisation of conditions. In the feudal times, as now in India
and other parts of the world, men were born to a certain station,
and it was nearly impossible for a peasant to rise to the rank of a
noble. Except (he nobles, there were no men that were rich ; for
commerce, either external or internal, had scarcely an existence.
Commerce was one engine for throwing down this seemingly im-
pregnable barrier, and shocking the prejudices of nobles, who
were sufficiently willing to believe that their retainers were a dif-
ferent species of beings from themselves. Learning was another
and more powerful engine. In all ages of the church we see
men of the basest origin rising to the highest eminence. Com-
merce proved that others could rise to wealth beside those who
were cased in mail ; but learning proved that the low-born were
capable of surpassing their lords. The progressive effect of these
* Vol. I. Book IV., Chap. X. -t- Chap. I., p. 205.
264 REFLECTIONS.
ideas may easily be traced. Long after learning began to unfold
its powers, its votaries still submitted to those obsequious manners
and servile dedications, which no man reviews at the present day
without astonishment. It is but lately that men have known that
intellectual excellence can accomplish its purposes without a
patron. At present, among the civilised and well informed, a
man of slender income, but of great intellectual powers and a
firm and virtuous mind, is constantly received with attention and
deference ; and his purse-proud neighbour who should attempt to
treat him superciliously, is sure to encorrnter a general disappro-
bation. The inhabitants of distant villages, where long esta-
blished prejudices are sloAvly destroyed, would be astonished to
see how comparatively small a share wealth has in determining
the degree of attention with which men are treated in enlightened
circles.
These no doubt are but slight indications. It is with morality
in this respect as it is with politics. The progress is at first so
slow as, for the most part, to elude the observation of mankind ;
nor can it be adequately perceived but by the contemplation and
comparison of events during a considerable portion of time.
After a certain interval the scene is more fully unfolded, and the
advances appear more rapid and decisive. While wealth was
every thing, it was to be expected that men would acquire it,
though at the expense of conscience and integrity. The abstract
ideas of justice had not yet been so concentred as to be able to
overpower what dazzles the eye. or promises a momentary grati-
fication. In proportion as foe monopolies of rank and corpora-
tion are abolished, the value of superfluities will decline. In pro-
portion as republicanism gains ground, men will be estimated for
what they are, and not for their accidental appendages.
Let us reflect on the gradual consequences of this revolution of
opinion. Liberality of dealing will be among its earliest results ;
and, of consequence, accumulation will become less frequent and
enormous. Men will not be disposed, as now, to take advantage
of each other's distresses. They will not consider how much they
can extort, but how much it is reasonable to require. The mas-
ter-tradesman who employs labourers under him, will be disposed
to give a more ample reward to their industry ; which he is at pre-
sent enabled to tax, chiefly by the accidental advantage of pos-
sessing a capital. Liberality on the part of his employer will
complete in the mind of the artisan, what ideas of political jus-
tice will probably have begun. He will no longer spend the sur-
plus of his earnings in that dissipation, which is one of the prin-
cipal of those causes that at present subject him to the arbitrary
pleasure of a superior. He will escape from the irresolution of
slavery arid the fetters of despair, and perceive that independence
and ease are scarcely less within his reach than that of any other
member of the community. This is an obvious step towards the
still further progression, in which the labourer will receive entire
REFLECTIONS.
265
whatever the consumer may be required to pay, without having a
capitalist, an idle and useless monopoliser, as he will then be found,
to fatten upon his spoils.
The same sentiments that lead to liberality of dealing will also
lead to liberality of distribution. The trader, who is unwilling
to grow rich by extorting from his customers or his workmen, will
also refuse to become rich by the not inferior injustice, of with-
holding from his indigent neighbour the gratuitous supply of
which he stands in need. The habit which was created in the
former case of being contented with moderate gains, is closely
connected with the habit of being contented with slender accu-
mulation. He that is not anxious to add to his heap, will not be
reluctant by a benevolent distiibution to prevent its increase.
Wealth was at one period almost the single object of pursuit that
presented itself to the gross and uncultivated mind. Various ob-
jects will hereafter divide men's attention, the love of liberty, the
love of equality, the pursuits of art, and the desire of knowledge.
These objects will not, as no\v, be confined to a few, but will
gradually be laid open to all. The love of liberty obviously leads
to a sentiment of union, and a disposition to sympathise in the
concerns of others. The general diffusion of truth will be pro-
ductive of general improvement; and men will daily approximate
towards those views according to which every object will be ap-
preciated at its true value. Add to which, that the improvement
of which we speak is public, and not individual. The progress
is the progress of all. Each man will find his sentiments of jus-
tice and rectitude echoed by the sentiments of his neighbours.
Apostacy will be made eminently improbable, because the apostate
will incur not only his own censure, but the censure of every be-
holder.
One objection may perhaps be inferred from these considera-
tions. " if the inevitable progress of improvement insensibly lead
towards equality, what need was there of proposing it as a specific
object to men's consideration ?" The answer to this objection is
easy. The improvement in question consists in a knowledge of
truth. But our knowledge will be very imperfect, so long as this
great branch of universal justice fails to constitute a part of it.
All truth is useful ; can this truth, which is perhaps the most
fundamental of all moral principles, be without its benefit ?
Whatever be the object towards which mind irresistibly ad-
vances, it is of no mean importance to us to have a distinct view
of that object. Our advances will thus become accelerated. It
is a well known principle of morality, " that he who proposes
perfection to himself, though he will inevitably fall short of what
he pursues, will make a more rapid progress than he who is con-
tented to aim only at what is imperfect." The benefits to be de-
rived in the interval from a view of equality as one of the great
objects to which we are tending, are exceedingly conspicuous.
Such a view will sfongly conduce to make us disinterested now.
will teach us to look with contempt upon mercantile specula-
266 REFLECTIONS.
tions, commercial prosperity, and the cares of gain. It will im-
press us with a just apprehension of what it is of which man is
capable, and in which his perfection consists ; and will fix our
ambition and activity upon the worthiest objects. Intellect can-
not arrive at any great and illustrious attainment, however much
the nature of intellect may carry us towards it, without feeling
some presages of its approach; and it is reasonable to believe
that, the earlier these presages are introduced, and the more dis-
tinct they are made, the more auspicious will be the event.
THE END.
J. "Watson, Printer ami Publisher, 5, Paul's Alley. Paternoster How.
INDEX.
A.
Abstraction, inseparable from the existence of mind, i. 53 Neces-
sary to the formation of language, and assisted by language in
return, 54.
Abuses, political, conviction of the understanding an adequate means
of abolishing them, i. 131.
Achilles, ii. 252.
Action, voluntary and involuntary distinguished, i. 27, 179, 201.
ii. 251. Voluntary actions originate in opinions, i. 28, 131, 182.
Virtuous action defined, 71. Injurious actions often proceed
from conscientious motives, 73. Actions of men regulated by
the nature of things, 81. By positive institution, 81. Action
considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, 1 83. External
action no proper subject of criminal animadversion, ii. 167
Addison, i. 2. ii. 259.
Addresses an equivocal mode of collecting the sense of a nation, i.
92. An uncertain criterion of the future conduct of a people,
ii. 260.
Administration, quantity of, necessary for social benefit, ii. 91.
Admonition, right of giving it, considered, i. 77.
Adversity, school of, ii. 4. Its supposed uses, 163. Defective, 164.
Unnecessary, 164.
AgincQurt, see Cressy.
Alexander, i. 4, 76.
Alfred, ii. 4.
Alliance, see Treaties.
Alphabetical writing, difficu.ty of its invention, i. 55. Probable
manner in which an alphabet was produced, 56.
Ambition, attainments to which it leads, i. 152.
Ambition of princes, its destructive nature, ii. 223.
Amphictyonic council, ii. 100.
Anarchy, its evils, ii. 176. Its disadvantages compared with the
disadvantages of despotism, 177. Its final result, 177.
Anaxarchus, i. 38.
Aquinas, Thomas, ii. 143.
Ardour, considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, i. 186.
Aristides, ii. 57.
Aristocracy, source of the system of, i. 145. Principles in oppo-
sition to it stated, 146. Similar in its effects to the monarchical
system, ii. 40. Nature and moral tendency of aristocracy. 43, 45.
Species of injustice created by it, 46. Its intolerance, 50. De-
pendent for its success upon the ignorance of the multitude, 50.
268 INDEX.
Precautions necessary for its support, 50. Different kinds of
aristocracy, 51. Virtues and vices of the aristocracy of the
Romans, 51, 52. Aristocratical distribution of property, 53.
Regulations by which it is maintained, 54. Avarice it engen-
ders, ib.
Aristotle, i. 48. ii. 143.
'Artisan, his happiness estimated, i. 211. Conduct that will be
observed by him in a more equal state of society, ii. 265.
Assassination, nature of, described, i. 144.
Assemblies, deliberative, regal prerogative of convoking, ii. 39.
Advantages of deliberate proceeding, 89. Authority due to a
representative assembly, 86. Institution of two houses of as-
sembly unjust, 87. National assemblies estimated, 96. Politi-
cal authority of a national assembly, 100. French national
assembly of 1789, 136.
Association of ideas, see Ideas.
Associations, political, arguments in favour of, stated, i. 136.
Answered, 137. They substitute a part for the whole, ib. Are
attended with party spirit, 137. With passionate declamation,
139. With cabal, ib. With contentious disputes, ib. With
restlessness, 140 W T ith tumult, ib. Exceptions in favour of
associations, 141.
Athens, democracy of, ii. 57. In what respect erroneous, 58.
Attila, i. 43.
Aversion, considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, i. 186.
Aurungzebe, i. 5.
Authority, the correlative of obedience, three kinds of, i. 109.
Fallibility of the men by whom authority is exercised, ii. 118.
B
Bacchus, i. 4.
Bacon, lord, ii. 249 note.
Ballot, decision by, inculcates timidity and hypocrisy, ii. 15'?.
Banishment, different kinds of, considered, ii. 186, 187.
Bartholomew, Saint, massacre of, i. 5, 72.
Beccaria, ii. 165, 167, 169.
Belief, mutability of the principle of, i. 73.
Becket, archbishop, i. 73.
Bellarmine, ii. 143.
Benevolence, system of, examined, i. 200. Origin of benevolence,
202. Tendency of the system of benevolence contrasted with
that of self-love, 207. Happiness of the man of benevolence
estimated, 212, 213. Benevolence the surest source of cheerful-
ness, ii. 250.
Berkeley, i. 13 note.
Birth, considered physically, ii 42. Morally, 43.
Blame, considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, i. 187.
Blood, thought the cause of its circulation, i. 199, ii. 251.
Baling' roke, see St. John.
Books, see Conversation.
INDEX. 269
Breed, difference of its effects in animals and men to be ascribed to
moral causes, i. 20.
Brutus, i. 145. ii. 106.
Burghers of the Netherlands, instance of their honourable po-
verty, ii. 150.
Burke, i. 7 note, 54 note, ii. 25, 32 note, 64 note, 146 note, 261 note.
Butler, bp. i. 201, note.
C.
Casar, i. 4, 145.
Caligula, i. 89.
Cambyses, i. 4.
Capacity in inanimate substances, i. 71. In man, ib.
Cato, i/66, 154. ii. 106, 116.
Character, salutary effects of its unrestrained investigation, ii. 131.
Charlemagne, i. 5.
Cheerfulness, habit of, favourable to corporeal vigour, ii. 250. Be-
nevolence its surest source, ib.
China, still makes use of hieroglyphical writing, i. 54.
Chivalry, ii. 45.
Christ, 'ii. 117.
Church of England, subscription of its clergy to the 39 articles,
ii. 112. Subterfuges by which it is defended, 113.
Cicero, i. 161. ii. 27, 43.
Clarke, i. 43, 181.
Clerkemuell, new prison of, ii. 187 note.
Clement, Jaques, i. 72.
Clergy, see Church Establishments.
Climate, no obstacle to the introduction of liberty, i. 46. Ex-
amples proving how little influence it has on the characters of
nations, 48.
Codrus, i. 66.
Coercion, its tendency, ii. 160, 164. Its various classes, 161. Co-
ercion in the case of self-defence, considered, 162, 175. Duty
of the community as to the coercion of its members, 174. Duty
of individuals, ib. Of coercion as to property, 212, ib.
Coke, chief justice, ii. 143.
Cohabitation, its evils, ii. 243.
Collins, i. 43.
Colonies, right of possessing them considered, ii. 79
Colonization see Banishment.
Commerce, interference of government with it superfluous, ii. 107.
Instrumental in abolishing the feudal system, 263.
Commerce, promiscuous, of the sexes, estimated, ii. 244.
Commons, English house of, ii. 89.
Communication, social, utility of i. 140.
Communities, rights of, i. 78.
Complacence, considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity,
i. 186.
Condorcet, ii. 249 note.
270 INDEX.
Confederacy, as the substitute of legislative unity, considered, ii. 141,
Confidence, a species of obedience, i. 107. Necessity of guarding 1
against it, 108. Its limitations, 110. In all cases the offspring
of ignorance, 112.
Conscience, province of, i. 83. Tendency of interfering with it, 84.
Conscience, in matters of religion, considered, ii. 168. In the
conduct of life, ib.
Constitutions, distinction of fundamental and temporary laws, ii. 135.
Supposed permanence of the former inconsistent with the nature
of man, 136. Source of the error, ib. Absurdity of the system
of permanence, 137. Its futility, 138. Mode to be pursued in.
framing a constitution, ib. Constituent laws not more important
than others, ib. Consent of districts to a constitution, 139.
Tendency of the principle which requires this consent, to reduce
the number of constitutional articles, 140. To parcel out the
legislative power, ib. To produce the gradual extinction of
law, ib.
Constraint, its limitation, ii. 94.
Contributions, military, condemned, ii. 78.
Conversation, advantage of, compared with books, i. 141.
Conviction, the proper instrument for regulating actions, i. 33. An
adequate means of demolishing political abuses, 131. Its pro-
gress not tardy and feeble, 132.
Co-operation, its evils, ii. 240. Limits and legitimate province of
the future state of co-operation, 242.
Corruption, see Venality.
Country, erroneous ideas annexed to the term, ii. 70
Courts, duplicity of, ii. 20.
Cranmer, archbishop, i. 38, 149.
Cressy and Agincourt, wars of, i. 5.
Crime, nature of, ii. 155.
Criminals, disadvantages attending them in a court of justice, ii. 171.
Manner in which they ought to be treated, 182.
Cromwell, i. 89.
Cyrus, i. 4.
D.
Damiens, i. 6, 72.
Darius, i. 4.
Death, punishment of, see Punishment.
Decius, i. 66.
Decrepitude, its causes, ii. 250.
Degeneracy, political, not incurable, ii. 106.
Delegation, vindicated, i. 102. Different from the doctrine of social
contract, 104.
Democracy, definition of, ii. 55. Supposed evils of this form of
government, iu the ascendancy of the ignorant, ib. Of the
crafty, ib. In its inconstancy, 56. Rash confidence, ib. Ground-
less suspicion, ib. Its merits and demerits compared, 57. Its
moral tendency, ib. Offensive war contrary to its nature, 68.
INDEX. 271
Objections to it as being unfavourable to secrecy in the conduct
of war, 85. As being too slow in its movements, 86. Too pre-
cipitate, 87. Modifications of democracy, 99. Democracy of
Athens, ii. 57.
Desert, force of the term, ii. 156.
Despotism, its character according to Locke, i. 7. Idea, that it is
congenial to certain ages and divisions of the world, refuted, 49.
Its disadvantages compared with the disadvantages of anarchy,
ii. 176, 177.
Devil, Milton's, how far a virtuous being, i. 154.
Digby, Everard.i. 74, 149.
Diodorus Siculus, i. 48.
Diogenes, ii. 5.
Discretion, rights of, considered, i. 79.
Dissimulation of political opinions, its pernicious effects, ii. 259.
Distinction, love of, ii. 205. Direction it is capable of receiving,
205, 227. Universality of the passion, 233, 263.
Dreams, manner in which they are generated, i. 199.
Dry den, i. 155.
Duelling, reflections on, i. 66.
Duration, measured by consciousness, i. 196.
Duty, defined, i. 70,74. ii. 181. Never our duty to do wrong, i. 74V
Duty of a citizen to the constitution of his country, 126. Best
practical criterion of duty, ii. 159. Duty of a community, as to
the coercion of its members, 174. Of individuals ib. Political
duties of those who are fitted for public instructors, 258. Poli-
tical duties of the rich and great, 259.
*?'
Education, its effect in the formation of the human mind, i. 19. In
what its miscarriages originate, 20, 22. Three kinds of educa-
tion, of accident, 22. Of design, 22. Of political institution, 23.
Education of the great, ii. 43, 44. Effect of the abolition of
marriage on education, ii. 244.
Education, national, arguments in favour of, stated, ii. 142. Con-
demned, as producing permanence of opinion, 142. As requiring
uniformity of operation, 144. As being the mirror and tool of
national government, 144.
Edwards, Jonathan, i. 61, 181.
Elizabeth, ii. 4, 164.
Emotion, sudden, revolutions occasioned by it in the human frame,
ii. 249, 250.
England, its wars, i. 5. Its poorand poor rates, 8. Decrease of its
land tax compared with the increasing taxes on consumption, 10.
Its revolution in 1688, 129. ii. 31. Rent-roll of the lands of
England a pension list, 220.
Enquiry, speculative, interference of government respecting it,
superfluous, ii. 107. Difficulty of suppressing it, 256.
Entails, origin of, ii. 46.
Epictetus, i. 154.
272 INDEX.
Epicurus, principle of his philosophy examined, i. 210. ii. 20-1.
Equality of mankind, considered physically, i. 68. Morally, 69.
How limited, 69. True equality of mankind, '213. Benefits Oi
a system of equality contrasted with the mischiefs of the present
system cf property, ii. 218. Objections to a system of equality
from its impracticability, stated, 226. Answered, 226. Further
objection from the question of permanence, 227. Nature of the
equality recommended, 229. Objection from the allurements of
sloth, 230. State of society previous to tho introduction of
equality, 231. Manual labour required in a state of equality,
231, 237, 241. Love of distinction not destroyed by equality, 23J.
Objection to equality from the benefits of luxury, 235. From
the inflexibility of its restrictions, 238. Common labour, meals
and magazines, in a state of equality not necessary, 239. Further
objection from the principle of population, 247. Duty of the
friends of equality, 262. Connexion between equality and
liberty, ib. Cause of equality will perpetually advance, 263.
Symptoms of its progress, 263. Idea of its future success, 264.
Benefits that will result from keeping it in our view, 265, 266.
Establishments, religious, their general tendency, ii. 112. Their
effect on the clergy, as introducing implicit faith, 112. Hypo-
crisy, 113. Effect on the laity, 114. Public establishments ob-
jected to, as including the idea of permanence, 143.
Eudamidas, ii. 149.
Evidence, difficulties to which it is liable, ii. 170, 171, 189.
Evil, defined, i. 95, 209. Evils existing in the universe dis-
played, 216.
Executive power, see Legislative.
Exertion, considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, i. 185.
Experience, its value in the attainment of wisdom, ii. 6.
F.
Fulius, ii. 82.
Faith, opinion of certain religionists respecting, i. 28. Opinion of
Shaftesbury, 29.
Fame, love of, ii. 234.
Family affection estimated, i. 60.
Fenclon, i. 60. ii. 13, 14.
Feudal system, i. 23. ii. 177, 205,218, 263.
Fielding, ii. 15.
Fines, whence derived, ii. 177.
Force, see Opinion, Sophistry, Truth.
Fortifications, their advantages doubtful, ii. 76.
Fortitude, an essential part of virtue, ii. 5.
France, its wars, i. 5. Events that gave birth to its late revolu-
tion, 134. Its declaration of war in 1792, ii. 72 note. Its not-
ables of 1787, 88. Its federal oath, 123, 124, ib. Its national
assembly of 1789, 136. Its convention of 1792, 138.
Franklin, ii. 241.
Fraud t see Robbery.
INDEX. 273
Frederic II. of Prussia, ii. 164.
Free will, origin and universality of the sentiment, i. 177. Its
absurdity as consisting in self determination, 179. In indif-
ference, 179. Free will disadvantageous to its possessor, 183.
Of no service to moralitv, 183.
G
GALILEO, ii. 86.
Game laws, their oppressive nature, i. 10.
Gengiskan, i. 5.
Genlis, madame de, ii. 8, 25.
Gerard, i. 72.
Germany, thirty years war of, i. 5.
Glory, national", ii. 86, 91.
Good and evil, defined, i. 209. Principle of the Stoics respecting
them examined, 210.
Government, its negative character according to Sydney and Locke,
i. 2. Extent of its influence illustrated from the evils of political
society, 2, 3. From the spirit of its institutions, 7. From the
share it occupies in the education of every human being, 23.
By certain English writers its form, held of more import-
ance than its principle, 58. Consequences of this mistake, ib.
ib Distiuction between government and society, 58. Govern-
ment founded in opinion, 46, 68, 113, 120. Different hypotheses
as to its true foundation, 88. Common deliberation, its true
foundation, 102. Founded in ignorance, 112. Question whether
one form ought to be prescribed to all nations, examined, 114.
Qualifications of this principle, 115. Government the enemy
of change, 116. No scheme of government perfect or final, 127.
Abstractedly considered an evil, ii. 2, 103. Composition of
government, 87. Complication of government unnecessary, 92.
Its two purposes, police, 94. And defence, 95. All government
a tyranny, 98. Its dissolution, 100. Its superintendence of
opinion, see Opinion. Governments, no more than individuals,
infallible, 118.
Gratitude, estimated, i. 61.
Gratification, sensual and intellectual compared, i. 34, 148.
Greece, indebted for its excellence to its liberties, i. 3. Political
character of its religion, ii. 60. Its resistance of invaders, 77.
Gunpowder treason, i. 73, 74, 149.
II.
HABIT, actions resulting from, in what degree voluntary, i. 31.
Its operation, 202.
Happiness, scale of, i. 211.
Hartley, i. 31 note, 55, 81, 190 note.
Health, speculations on the nature of, ii. 249.
Helietius, i. 2 iicte, 133, ii. 62 note.
Ilewii IV. of France, i. 5. ii. 4.
Hereditary distinction, see Birth.
33. VOL. n. T
274 INDEX.
Heresy, arguments for the suppression of, stated, ii. 115. An-
swered, 116.
Hieroglyphical writing, once" universal, i. 55. Manner in which it
is used in China, ib.
History, its doubtfulness, ii. 170.
Home, John, ii. 42.
Homer, ii. 61.
Honour, national, its vindication no justifiable cause of war, ii. 72.
Howard, ii. 185, 186 note.
Humanity, necessity of the practice of it in war, ii. 78.
Hume, i. 13 note, 46, 47, 90, 93, 178, 201 note. ii. 93 note, 221 note.
236 note.
Hutcheson, i. 201 note.
I.
IDEAS, association of, i. 192. Rapidity of their succession, 195.
ii. 252.
Ignorance, not necessary to make men virtuous, ii. 116.
Imposture, political, monarchy founded in, ii. 23. Example of
political imposture in the doctrine of eternal punishment, 60.
In the Religious sanction of a legislative assembly, 62. In the
principle of political order, 63. Motives of political imposture,
64. Effects attending it, 65. Situation of its advocates, 67.
Absurdity of their reasonings, ib.
Imprisonment, solitary, its severity, ii. 185. Its moral effects, 186.
Improvements, political, mode in which they are to be realized, i.
115, 130. When gradually introduced, supersede revolutions,
116, 127. Means of affecting them, 137, 150. ii. 88, 108, 262.
Improvements, scientific, of the three last centuries, i. 214.
Independence, natural and moral, distinguished, ii. 238.
Individuality, its advantages, ii. 240.
Inequality, of conditions, its effects, i. 11. How to be destroyed,
ii. 212. Instances of gratuitous inequality, 214.
Inheritance, principle of, ii. 213.
Injidelity, conjugal, estimated, ii. 244.
Injustice, species of, created by aristocracy, ii. 46.
Innovation, argument against, from the present happy establishment
of affairs, examined, ii. 54. Sceptical suggestions respecting, 255.
Insincerity, its nature and history, i. 160. Effects resulting from
it, 160. Evil arising from a command to be insincere, ii. 133.
Instincts, have no existence in the human mind, i. 15.
Institution, positive, its equivocal character, as tending to excite
virtue, i. 82. Its inaptitude to inform the judgment, 82. Sus-
pends the progress of mind, 117. ii. 110, 111. See further,
Opinion, Establishments.
Irresponsibility of princes, ii. 10, 34.
J.
JOHNSON,*. 155.
Judgment, its nature, as contrasted with prejudice, described, ii, 143.
INDEX. 275
Judgment, private, right of, i. 80. ii. 208, 216.
Juries, their appropriate province, ii. 94. Modifications of which
i they are susceptible, 100.
Justice, defined, i. 59. Considered with reference to the sentiment
of self-love, 60. To family affection, 60, 62. To gratitude, 61.
Importance of a sense of justice, 153. Its connection with
talents, 154. Importance of practical justice, ii. 46.
Justice, political, idea of, i. 64. Its province, 69. Its future history,
ii. 196. Errors that may arise at the commencement, 197. Its
gradual progress, 197. Its effects on criminal law and property,
197.
Justice, retributive, noc independent and absolute, ii. 1&5. Not
to be vindicated from the system of nature, 156. Propriety
of a retribution to be measured by the intention of the offender
considered, 168.
K.
KINGS, see Princes.
Knowledge, defined, i. 132. Its connection with happiness, 147.
With virtue, 147.
L.
LABOUR, in its usual acceptation, and labour for the public,
compared, ii. 146. Quantity of labour required in a state of
equality, 233, 237. Division of labour, 246. Low price of
labour unfavourable to population, 248.
Land-tax, of England, its decrease compared with the increasing
taxes on consumption, i. 10.
Language, its origin and progress, i. 53.
Latitudinarian, see Tests.
Law, is in every country the favourer of the rich against the poor,
i. 10. Abuses of its administration, 11. The enacting of law
no function of society, 221. ii. 2. Gradual extinction of law
how to be produced, 140. Arguments in favour of law, an-
swered, 191. Law once instituted is endless, 191. Uncertain,
192. Mode in which it must be studied, 192. Pretends to
foretel future events, 193. Is a species of promise, 193. Checks
the freedom of opinion, ib. Is destructive of the principles
of reason, ib. Abolition of law vindicated, on the score of
wisdom, 195. Of candour, 195. From the nature of man, t&.
Effect of the abolition of law on property, 197.
Laics, agrarian and sumptuary, estimated, ii. 105, 210.
Lawyers, their dishonesty, ii. 194. An honest lawyer mischievous,
194.
Learning, instrumental in abolishing the feudal system, ii. 263.
Legislative and executive power, their separation, ii. 90. Quantity
of, necessary to be maintained, 91.
Leicester, Dudley earl of, ii. 17.
Leonidas, i. 66.
Letters, incendiary, jurisprudence of, ii. 130.
T2
276 INDEX.
Libels, attempts to restrain public libels unjust, ii. 128. Pusilla-
nimous, 129. Case in which restraint may be employed, ib.
Arguments, in favour of restraining private libels, stated, 130,
131. Answered, from the necessity of truth being told, 131.
Future history of libel, 132. Further argument against re-
straining libels, from the necessity of teaching men to be sincere,
133. The mind spontaneously shrinks from the prosecution of
a libel, 134.
Liberty, not incompatible with any climate, i. 46. To be intro-
duced like other benefits, 46. The majority of a nation con-
vinced of its desirableness will inevitably obtain it, 47. Nature
of liberty, 123. Connection between liberty and equality,
ii. 262.
Liberty, personal, under what limitations a right, i. 79.
Liberty, philosophical, see Free-will.
Life, under what limitations a right, i. 79. Its probable pro-
longation in a future state of society, ii. 249, 253.
Locke, i. 2 note, 7, 13 note, 54 note, 90.
Logan, i. 116.
Longevity, see Life.
Lot, see Sortition.
Love, attainments to which it leads, i. 151.
Louis XIV. i. 5.
Lucullus, ii. 83.
Luxury, of the rich, a cause of robbery and fraud, i. 8. Injustice
of luxury, ii. 27. Benefits of luxury, as an objection to equality,
considered, 235. Luxury a stage to be passed through, 236.
Meanings of the term luxury distinguished, 236.
Luxury, of nations, no invincible bar to the revival of liberty,
i. 45, 50.
Lycitrgus, i. 66, ii. 63, 241.
M.
MABLY, ii. 107, 221 note.
Mace, of the English parliament, importance affixed to it, ii. 26.
Mahomet, i. 5.
Majority, power of, in a state, i. 91. Resistance on the part of,
considered, 121. Deceptions to which we are liable in esti-
mating it, 121. Remedy to those deceptions, 122.
Malesherbes, ii. 62 note.
Malevolence, nature of, considered, i. 205.
Man, how far the creature of two hostile principles, reason and
sensation, i. 25, 33. His vices and moral weakness not in-
curable, 44. Is capable of perpetual improvement, 44, 47. His
perfectibility inferred from the invention of language, 53. From
alphabetical writing, 55. From a comparison of his original
state with his subsequent improvements, 52, 56. Extent of his
duties as a social being, 16, 66. Uniformity of his nature, 114.
His strength and weakness, ii, 38. Not immortal, 253,
M:ntdedllt' } ii. 235 note.
INDEX. 277
Maria Theresa, i. 5, 6.
Marius, i. 5. ii. 162.
Marlborough, duke of, i. ?.
Marriage, received system of, considered, ii. 243. Consequences
of its abolition, 244.
Martyrdom, a species of suicide, i. 66.
Massacre, idea of, ii. 255. Qualification of this idea, 255.
Mechanism, two classes of, material and intellectual, i. 189. In-
tellectual system most probable, 190.
Medicine, two branches of, animal and intellectual, ii. 252.
Memory, nature of, as connected with the mechanism of the mind,
i. 195.
Menas, ii. 5.
Merit, truth its only adequate reward, ii. 49, 206.
Militia, universal, as a means of defending a country, objected to,
ii. 80.
Military operations, ii. 76. Fortifications, ib. General action, 77.
Stratagem, ib. Contributions, 78. Military obedience in the
conduct of a legitimate war not necessary, ib. Military es-
tablishments iu time of peace pernicious, 81. Unnecessary with
respect to courage, 81. To discipline, 82. Military com-
mander, 82.
Miltiades, ii. 57.
Milton, i. 34, 154.
Mind, the term vindicated, i. 12 note. In what sense used in this
work, ib. Has no innate principles, 13. No instincts, 15. Is
little modified by antenatal and early impressions, 17, 20. As
little by the structure of the animal frame, 18. Derives its
qualities chiefly from moral causes, or the influence of education,
19, 22. Its subtlety, 32. Is only a faculty of perception, 45,
215. Its progress, 52, 53, ii. 256. Is capable of entertaining
abstract ideas, i. 53 note. Its theory a system of mechanism,
189. Can have but one thought at a time, 192. Always thinks,
197. Its nature contrasted with the nature of government, ii.
110. In no other sense an agent, than as matter is an agent, 155.
Its omnipotence over matter, 241, 249. Application of this
principle to the animal frame, 249.
Ministers of state, their character, ii. 1 8. Power of dismissing them,
35. Their responsibility, ib. Power of appointing them, 36.
Their functions,
Minority, in a state, resistance on the part of, considered, i. 122.
Mithridatic war, i. 5.
Monopoly, the parent of force, ii. 222. Generates selfishness, 234.
Monarchy, nature of, delineated, ii. 3. Its supposed excellence
under a virtuous prince controverted, 15. Venality and cor-
ruption necessary to its existence, 21. Universality of the
operation of these principles, ib. Monarchy founded in im-
posture, 23. Means by which the imposture is supported, 24.
Effect of the imposture, as generating indifference to merit and
truth, 24. Artificial desires, 25. Pusillanimity, 26. Moral
278 INDEX.
incredulity, 27. Inordinate admiration of wealth, 28. Evils of
monarchy not qualified by rendering it elective, 29. Elective
and hereditary monarchy not to be combined, 31. Limited
monarchy liable to the same objections as absolute, 32. To
other objections peculiar to itself, 33. Responsibility of a limit-
ed monarch, 33. His functions, 34. Neutrality required of him
impracticable, 34. Prerogative of dismissing and appointing
ministers, 35, 36, 39. Of pardoning criminals, 39. Of con-
voking deliberate assemblies, 40. Of affixing a veto to their
decrees, ib. Monarchical and aristocratical systems similar in
their effects, 40. All wars originate in those systems, 69.
Montesquieu, i. 105.
Moral causes, their effect in the formation of the human mind, i. 19.
Mentality, its connection with politics, i. 57. Its province unlimited,
75, 94. Its foundation, 92. General principles of morality
estimated, 164. Interference of government with it superfluous,
ii. 107. Morality in a designing mind not different from morality
in an inanimate substance, 155.
More, sir Thomas, ii. 221 note.
Morgan, William, ii. 241 note.
Moses, ii. 117.
Motion, four classes of, i. 199. See further Thought, Action.
Motive, term defined, i. 27 note, 205. Motives difficult to be dis-
covered, 72. Their complexity, 32, 73, 205. Motives of an
action constitute an essential part of its character, ii. 159. In-
scrutability of motives an argument against punishment, 169.
Murder, iniquity of punishing all instances of it alike, ii. 167, 199.
Mutius Scsevola, i. 37.
N.
NAMES, influence of, on the mind, ii. 37.
Nations, characters of, not owing to the influence of climate, i. 48.
Nations not subject like individuals to youth, old age, and
decay, 50. When sunk in luxury and effeminacy, may still be
reclaimed, ib. Ambiguity of the term nation, 119, 123. See
further Glory, Rivalship.
Nature, meaning of the term, and errors respecting it corrected,
i. 40.
Necessity, term defined, i. 173. Why supposed to exist in the
operations of the material universe, 173. The case parallel in
the operations of the mind, 175. Indications of necessity in
Listory, 175. In our judgments of character, 176. In our
schemes of policy, ib. In our ideas of moral discipline, ib. Ob-
jection to necessity, from the fallibility of our expectations in
human conduct, answered, 177. Universality cf the doctrine,
178. Its truth illustrated from the nature of volition, 178.
From the absurdity of free will, 179. Idea it suggests of the
universe, 182. Its influence on our moral ideas, 183. On action,
183. Virtue, 183. Exertion, 185. Persuasion, 185. Exhorta-
tion, ib. Ardour, 186. Complacence and aversion, 186. Pun-
IXDEX. 279
ishment, 187. Repentance, ib. Praise and blame, ib. Intel-
lectual tranquillity, 188. Language of necessity recommended,
188. The doctrine of necessity considered in relation to the
doctrine of optimism, 215, 216.
Neicton, ii. 86, 116.
Nobility, see Birth.
O.
OATH, federal, of the French, ii. 123, 124, ib.
Oaths, of office and duty, their absurdity, ii. 126. Their immoral
consequences, 126. Oaths of evidence, less atrocious, 126.
Opinion of the liberal and resolved respecting them, ib. Their
contempt of veracity, 126. False morality of them, 127. Ab-
stract principles assumed by them to be true, 127. Their in-
consistency with these principles, 128.
Obedience, political, not founded in contract, i. 100, 106. Dif-
ferent kinds of obedience, 107. Compulsory obedience less
injurious than confidence, 108. ii. 103.
Obedience, military, in the conduct of a legitimate war not ne-
cessary, ii. 78.
Offices, power of appointing to, ought not to rest in one man, ii. 39.
Ogilvie, ii. 220, 224.
Opinion, voluntary actions of men originate in opinion, i. 28, 131,
182. Arguments in favour of its political superintendence,
stated, ii. 102. Answered, 103. Exertions of society in this
respect, unwise, 104. Incapable of proper effect, ib. Super-
fluous : instanced in commerce, 107. In speculative enquiry,
107. In morality, 107. Pernicious, as undermining the best
qualities of the mind, 109. As hostile to its future improve-
ment, 110. Suppression of erroneous opinions in religion, 115.
In government, 119. Difficulty of suppressing opinions by
force, 119. Severities that would be necessary, 120. Opinions,
without persecution and oppression, do not lead to violence, 121.
Opinion, public, its influence on the conduct of individuals, ii. 227.
Optimism, errors of the system, i. 214. Degree of truth mixed
with it, 214. Limitations of the idea deduced from this truth,
215. Rashness of the doctrine illustrated by a display of the
condition of the universe, 216. Ill effects of optimism, as
destructive of any consistent theory of virtue, 218. As blunting
the delicacy of moral discrimination, 219. As reconciling us
to the spectacle of perverseness in others, 219. As leading
men to court persecution and martyrdom, 220.
Orleans, duke of, ii. 9.
Ostentation, of the rich, one of the causes of the vices of the poor,
i. 8.
Overt acts, reasons against their being distinguished from inten-
tions, ii. 189. Principle in which the distinction is founded,
190.
P.
PAIN, an evil, i. 95, 209, 216.
280 INDEX.
Paine, Thomas, i. 2 note. 59, 78, ii. 42, 62 note, 137.
Pardon, regal prerogative of, ii. 39. Absurdity of pardons, 199.
Their origin, 199. Their abuses, 200. Their arbitrary cha-
racter, 200. Are destructive of morality, ib.
Passion, its different meanings, and errors respecting it corrected,
1.-38. The passions founded in a sentiment of justice, 39.
Peasant, his happiness estimated, i. 211.
Pedaretus, i. 208.
Pensions and salaries, reasons by which they are vindicated, ii. 146.
Immoral effect of the institution of salaries, 147. Source from
which they are derived, 148. Unnecessary to the subsistence
of the public functionary, 148. To the support of his dignity,
150. Salaries of inferior officers, may be superseded, 150.
Rent-roll of the lands of England a pension-list, ii. 220.
Perfection, unattainable, i. 44.
Pericles, ii. 57.
Permanence, see Constitutions.
Persecution, a love of it encouraged by the doctrine of optimism,
i. 220. Its tendency is to generate the most odious vices, ii. 12.
Persecution, religious, how justified by our ancestors, ii. 156.
Persuasion, considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, i. 185.
Pity, not an innate principle, i. 17.
Pftocion, ii. 57.
Pisistrutus, ii. 57.
Pluto, ii. 221 note.
Pleasure, delineated, i. 210.
Plutarch, ii. 27.
Population, opinions that have been entertained upon the subject
of, ii. 247. Adapted to find its own level, 247. Precautions
that have been exerted to check it, 248. Population and tlu>
cultivation of the globe compared, 248. In a future state of
society, will probably cease to be extended, 253.
Poor, state of, in England, i. 8. Origin of the vices of the poor,
8, ib. 9, ii. 222.
Possessions, foreign. See Colonies.
Poverty, one of the causes of robbery and fraud, i. 8.
Praise] considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, i. 187.
Prejudice, its empire accounted for, i. 197. Its nature described 1 ,
i'i. 143.
President, with regal powers, injurious tendency of that office,
11. 38.
Price, Dr. ii. 241 note.
Primogeniture, right of, its origin, ii. 46, 177, 214.
Princes, their rights, i. 78. Their education, ii. 6. Manner in
which they are addressed, 6. Inefficacy of the instruction,
bestowed upon them, 8. Private life of a prince, 10. Princi-
ples by which he is influenced, irresponsibility, 10, 34. Im-
patience of control, 11. Habits of dissipation, 11. Ignorance,
12. Dislike of truth, 13. Dislike of justice, 13. Pitiable*
situation of princes, 14. Not entitled to superiority over their
CONTENTS
OP
THE SECOND VOLUME.
BOOK V.
OF LEGISLATIVE AND EXECUTIVE POWER.
Page.
CHAP. I.
Introduction 1
CHAP. IT.
Of Education, the Education of a Prince 3
CHAP. III.
Private Life of a Prince 10
CHAP. IV.
Of a Virtuous Despotism 15
CHAP. V.
Of Courts and Ministers ... 18
CHAP. VI.
Of Subjects 23
CHAP. VII.
Of Elective Monarchy 29
CHAP. VIII.
Of Limited Monarchv 32
CHAP. IX.
Of a President with Regal Powers 38
CHAP. X.
Of Hereditary Distinction 42
IV CONTEXTS OF VOL. II.
Page.
CHAP. XI.
Moral Effects of Aristocracy 45
CHAP. XII.
Of Titles 48
CHAP. XIII.
Of tlie Aristocratical Character 50
CHAP. XIV.
Of the General Features of Democracy 55
CHAP. xv.
Of Political Imposture GO
CHAP. XVI.
Of the Causes of War G3
CHAP. XVII.
Of the Object of War 73
CHAP. XVIII.
Of the Conduct of War 76
CHAP. XIX.
Of Military Establishments and Treaties , 80
CHAP. xx.
Of Democracy as Connected with the Transactions of War . 84
CHAP. XXI.
Of the Composition of Government 87
CHAP. XXII.
Of the Future History of Political Societies SI
CHAP. XXIII.
Of National Assemblies 96
CHAP. xxiv.
Of the Dissolution of Government 100
BOOK VI.
Or OPINION CONSIDERED AS A SUBJECT OF POLITICAL
INSTITUTION.
CHAP. I.
General Effects of the Political Superintendence of Opinion 102
INDEX. 281
pubjects, 23. Inadequate to the functions they possess, 23, 31.
Splendour of their state, 24. Inflated style of regal formality,
24. The title of prince estimated, 40. Enormous salary of a
prince in a limited monarchy, 53.
Principles, general, estimated, i. 163.
Principles, levelling, supposed danger of disseminating them, ii. 254.
Printing, benefits resulting from its introduction, i. 133, 135.
Privilege, defined, ii. 46.
Prizes, see Rewards.
Procrustes, ii. 193.
Promises, in no sense the foundation of morality, i. 92. Absolutely
considered, are an evil, 93. Use of them not frequently neces-
sary, 96. Their obligation, 97. Application of the idea of
promises to a social contract, 99.
Property, effects of its inequality in the most refined states of
Europe, i. 8. How unequal property ought to be employed, 63.
Right of property, 80. ii. 202, 216. Sacredness of property,
i. 97. ii. 216, Aristocratical distribution of property, 54. Effect
of the abolition of law on property, 197. Abuses that have
insinuated themselves^ into 'the administration of property, 202.
Property defined, 202, 207. System of popular morality on the
subject of property, 206. Degrees of property, in the means of
subsistence and happiness, 207. In the fruits of our labour, 208.
In the labour of others, 209. Unfavourable features of this
last species of property, 209. Ground of obligation respecting
it, 210. Origin of property, 210. Accumulated property an
usurpation, 213. Mischiefs resulting from the present system
of property : a sense of dependence, 218. The perpetual
spectacle of injustice, leading men astray in their desires, 219.
Perverting the integrity of their judgments, 220. The dis-
couragement of intellectual attainments, 221. The generating
the crimes of the poor, 222. The passions of the rich, 223.
The misfortunes of war, 223. Depopulation, 224.
Prosperity, see Superfltdty.
Punishment, not suited to produce conviction, i. 85. Considered
in relation to the doctrine of necessity, 187. ii. 155. The right
of punishing not founded in the previous function of instructing,
ii. 145. Definition of punishment, 154. Punishment not to be
vindicated from the idea of retributive justice, 155. From the
system of nature, 156. Punishment for restraint, 162, 180.
For reformation, 163, 179. For example, 165, 180. Delin-
quency and punishment incommensurable, 166. Argument
against punishment from the inscrutability of motives, 169.
From the uncertainty of evidence, 167, 170. Punishment, as a
temporary expedient, considered, 172. Punishment of death
with torture, 182. Of death absolutely, ib. Origin of this
mode of punishment, 183. Corporeal punishment, 183. Pun-
ishment by privation of freedom, 184. By solitary imprison-
ment, 18;}. By a state of slavery or hard labour, 18tf By
282 INDEX.
banishment, 186. Uncertainty of punishment, from the pre-
rogative of pardon, 200.
Punishment, eternal, inutility of the doctrine argued from history.
ii. 60. From the nature of the human mind, 61.
Purist, see Tests.
Pyrrho, ii. 7.
Q.
QUALIFICATIONS, pecuniary, their injustice, ii. 151.
R.
RAVAILLAC, i. 72.
Raynal, i. 69.
Refinement, social, its advantages, ii. 235.
Reform, political, see Improvements.
Religion, of the Greeks and Romans, its political character, ii. 60.
Doctrine of religion upon the subject of property, 206, 219.
Repentance, considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity,
i. 187.
Republicanism, its tendency to an equalization of conditions, ii.
262, 264.
Representation, its uses, ii. 58. Its imperfections, 59. See Delega-
tion, Assemblies.
Resistance, question of, stated, i. 119. Resistance of a nation, 119.
Of a majority, 121. Of a minority, 122. Of the individual, 124.
Responsibility of kings, ii. 33. Of ministers, 35.
Retribution, see Justice retributive.
Revenue laws, their oppressive nature under the late government
of France, i. 10.
Reverence of superiors, estimated, i. 111.
Revolutions, general observations upon the subject of, i. 125.
Revolutionary measures inimical to independence, 127. To
intellectual enquiry, 129. English revolution of 1688, 129, ii.
31. Revolutions always accompanied with blood, i. 129. Crude
and premature in their effects, 130. Uncertain in point of suc-
cess, 130. Wholly unnecessary, 131. Events that gave birth
to the French revolution, 134. Revolutions in some cases to be
looked for, 135. Revolution and despotism compared, ii. 255.
Rewards, their inefficacy, ii. 105, 106, 109, 206.
Rich, ostentation and tyranny of the rich a cause of robbery and
fraud, i. 8, 9. The rich are the true pensioners, ii. 220. Pos-
sibility of persuading them to resign their gratifications, con-
sidered, 227. Many of them may be expected to be advocates
of equality, 259 Conduct which their interest as a body pre-
scribes, 260.
Right, defined, i. 70. Active rights of man exploded, 75. Con-
sequences of the doctrine of active rights, 77. Rights of kings,
78. Of communities, ib Passive rights of man irrefragable^
INDEX. 283
' 9. Right of discretion, 79. Of property, 80. ii. 202, 207.
Of private judgment, i. 81. ii. 212, 216.
RivaUhip of nations, a creature of the imagination, ii. 91.
Robbery and Fraud, in what they originate, i. 7. How far remedied
or aggravated by political institutions, 10.
Rochefoucault, i. 201. ii. 27.
Rochelle, seige of, i. 5.
Romans, indebted for their excellence to their political liberties, i. 3.
Their wars, 5. Political character of their religion, ii. 60.
Romulus, ii. 187.
Rousseau, i. 2 note, 91, 155, 161, 207. ii. 62, 63 note, 70, 236.
Rou-e, ii. 14.
S.
ST. JOHN, lord Bolingbroke, ii. 49.
Salaries, see Pensions.
Salic law, i. 5.
Salisbury, Cecil earl of, ii. 17.
Science, its nature progressive, i. 130, 133, 214. Its importance as
conducing to our happiness, 147. To our virtue, 147. To our
political improvement, 130. Its progress compared to the
taking to pieces a disordered machine, ii 116. Nature of political
science, 257.
Secresy, state, estimated, ii. 85, 90.
Self-deception, its prevalence, i. 30, 73.
Self-love, not an innate principle, i. 17. Estimated, 60. System
ascribing all human actions to self-love examined, 200. Is in-
compatible with virtue, 206. Its discouraging tendency, 207.
Its influence as a motive to be cautiously admitted, ii. 146, 147.
Self-preservation, not an innate principle, i. 17.
Semiramis, i. 4.
Serf, comparison of the condition of, with that of a Polish
prince, ii. 47.
Sesostris, i. 4.
Shaftesbury, i. 29, 201 note.
Shakespear, i. 76. ii. 15, 116, 253.
Sincerity, its obligation, i. 94. Its importance instanced in the case
of assassination, 145. Its favourable tendency in respect of in-
nocence, 156. Of energy, 156. Of intellectual improvement,
158. Of philanthropy, 159. Its value illustrated from the
nature of insincerity, 160. Delineation of sincerity, 161.
Character of its adherents, 162. Illustrations of sincerity, 163.
Limitations, 166. Necessity of teaching men sincerity, one
argument against restraining private libels, ii. 133. Duty of
sincerity in those who are qualified for public instructors, 258.
Slave trade, contentedness of its victims no argument in its favour,
i. 211.
Smith, Adam, ii. 246.
Social contract, considered, i. 89. The contracting parties, ib.
The form of engagement, 89. Extent of the obligation, 90.
Social contract illustrated from the nature of promises, 99.
284 INDEX.
Society, distinct from government, i. 59. Its claims and duties, 64,
Can declare and interpret, not enact laws, 105. Its authority
only executive, ib. Instituted for the benefit of the individual,
ii. 70, 91. Comparative value of its internal and external
affairs, 84. Its future history, 91. Is incapable of acting from
itself, 98. Of being well regulated by others, 98. Its superin-
tendence of opinion considered, see Opinion.
Soldier, depravity of the character, ii. 80.
Sophistry, reason, not force, its proper corrective, ii. 117.
Sortition, decision by, ii. 29. Its origin, 151. Founded in moral
imbecility, 152. In cowardice, ib.
Speech, incongruity of attempting to restrain its freedom, ii. 118.
Consequence that would result, ib.
Spies, the employment of, incompatible with true policy, ii. 105.
Standing army, as a means of defending a country, condemned,
ii. 80.
Sterne, i. 105.
Stoics, principle of their philosophy examined, i. 210.
Stratagems, military, condemned, ii. 77.
Subjection, military, insufficient to enslave a people against their
inclination, i. 120.
Subjects, ii. 23. Degradation of the name, 37.
Subscription, to articles of religion. See Church.
Suicide, reflections on, i. 65.
Sunday schools, lessons taught in them, ii. 143.
Superjiuity, its tendency to inspire effeminacy, ii. 4. To deprive
us of the benefit of experience, 5. Superfluities appreciated,
ii. 203. Benefits that would result from their suppression, 221.
Swift, i. 6, 155. ii. 100, 107, 117, 221 note.
Sydney, Algernon, i. 2 note.
S'ylla,\ 5.
T.
TALENTS, their connection with virtue. See Virtue. Illiberally
with which men of talents are treated, i. 155.
Tamerlane, i. 5.
Taste, man of, his happiness estimated, i. 212.
Taxation, falls almost exclusively upon the poor, ii. 148. How to
be abolished, 150.
Territory, extensive territory superfluous, ii. 93.
Testation, protection given to it founded in true policy, ii. 213.
Tests, their supposed advantages are attended with injustice, ii. 121.
Are nugatory, 122. Their injurious and ensnaring effects illus-
trated in the French federal oath, 123, 123. In the subscription
of the dissenting clergy of England to the articles of the estab-
lished church, 123. Influence of tests on the latitudinarian, 124.
On the purist, 124. Benefits that would result from their aboli-
tion, 125.
Theories, estimated, i. 163.
Theseus, ii. 252.
IXDEX. 285
Thought, its concern in the mechanism of the mind, i. 190.
Thoughts which produce animal motion may he involuntary, 191.
Unattended with consciousness, 192. The mind can have but
one thought at a time, 192. Objection from the case of complex
ideas, 193. From comparison, 194. From apprehension, 194.
A distinct thought not necessary to each motion, 196. Incon-
gruity of attempting to restrain thought, ii. 117. Consequences
that would result, 118. Instances in which thought modifies
the structure and members of the human body, 249.
Titles, their origin and history, ii. 48. Their absurdity, 49. Coun-
tenance afforded them by the community, 214.
Toleration, principle upon which it is to be vindicated, ii. 120.
Torture, instruments of, i. 6.
Tradesman, his fawning manners one of the evils resulting from,
property, ii. 218. Conduct that will be observed by him in a
more equal state of society, 264, 265.
Tranquillity, intellectual, considered in relation to the doctrine of
necessity, i. 188.
Transposition, see Banishment.
Treaties of alliance, estimated, ii. 83, 85.
Truth, the term vindicated, i. 26 note. Will prevail over error, 41,
Is capable of being adequately communicated, 41. Is omnipo-
tent, 43. ii. 38. Its property is to spread, i. 46. Not subject
to the vicissitudes of flux and reflux, 134. Not promoted by
political associations, 137. Tendency of truth, ii. 58. Necessity
of its being told, an argument against the restraining of libels,
131. Effect of truth in the case of libels contrasted with that
of force, 135.
Tumult, exhortations to, a species of libel that may lawfully be
restrained, ii. 129.
Turkey, effect of wealth and rank on its inhabitants, i. 11.
Tyrannicide, diversity of opinions on the subject of, i. 143. Argu-
ment in its vindication stated, and answered, 143. Consequences
of tyrannicide, 144.
V.
V ALOIS, duke de, ii. 9.
Venality, and corruption, necessary to the existence of monarchy,
ii. 21. Extent of their influence, ib.
Veto, royal prerogative of exercising it, ii. 40.
Vice, its nature described, i. 72. Has no essential advantage over
virtue, ii. 64.
Virgil, ii. 233.
Virtue, general qualities of, i. 50, 62. Virtuous action, 71. A
virtuous agent, 71. Foundation of virtue, 81. Virtue the best
gift of man ; proved by its undecaying excellence, 148. By its
manner of adapting itself to all situations, 149. Cannot be
effectually communicated but by a cultivated mind, 149. Mis-
guided virtue, ib. Virtue defined, 150, 205. ii. 70. Its con-
nection with knowledge and talents, i. 147, 149, 150, 152.
286 INDEX.
Considered in relation to the doctrine of necessity, 183. Valu-
able only as the instrument of pleasure, 214.
Understanding, meaning of the term, i. 82. Cultivation of the
understanding has no tendency to corrupt the heart, ii. 116.
Universe, evils existing in it displayed, i. 216.
Universities, their backwardness in knowledge, ii. 142.
Volition, inseparable from foresight, i. 31, 33, 201. Does not enter
into the earliest actions of a human being, 31.
Voltaire, i. 149, 155.
Vote, decision by, its consequences, ii. 97. Its recommenda-
tions, 153.
W.
WALLACE, ii. 221 note, 247.
War, its nature delineated, i. 4. ii. 71, 83. Its frequency among
the ancients, i. 4. Among the moderns, 5. Its causes, 5. ii. 72.
Offensive war, 69. Defensive, 69. Legitimate causes of war,
73. The object of war ought to be, repelling an invader, 73.
Not reformation, 74. Not restraint, 74. Not indemnification,
ib. Nothing a sufficient object of war that is not a sufficient
cause for beginning it, 74. Conduct of war. See Military
operations. Naval war, 78. Necessity of the practice of
humanity in war, 78. Duty of independent communities as to
war, 174. The passion for war produced by the prevailing
system of property, 223.
Watson, i. 195 note.
Wealth, man of, his happiness estimated, i. 212. Injustice of the
inordinate admiration of wealth, ii. 28. Injustice of its accu-
mulation, 219. Reception of wealth and intellectual excellence
compared, 264.
Whiston, i. 43.
Will, not a distinct faculty, i. 181.
William III. i. 5.
Wolsey, i. 133.
Woouton, i. 43,
XERXES, i. 4.
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