HUME, MONTESQUIEU, ROUSSEAU

From Classics in Political Philosophy, by James Fieser

© 2008, updated 1/1/2026, CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

 

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CONTENTS

• David Hume: The Original Contract and Artificial Justice (from "Of the Original Contract" and Enquiry)

• Montesquieu: Small Republics, Liberty, and Slavery (from The Spirit of the Laws)

• Jean-Jacques Rousseau: Political Inequality and the Social Contract (from Discourse on Inequality and The Social Contract)

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DAVID HUME: THE ORIGINAL CONTRACT AND ARTIFICIAL JUSTICE

 

David Hume (1711–1776) was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, and his philosophy is characterized by a skeptical questioning of key assumptions that writers before him took for granted. In the selections below, Hume attacks two basic notions in political philosophy: the social contract and the instinctive nature of justice regarding private property. In his 1748 essay "Of the Original Contract," he argues that political allegiance is not grounded in any social contract, but instead on our general observation that society cannot be maintained without a governmental system. He concedes that in savage times there may have been an unwritten contract among tribe members for the sake of peace and order. However, he argues, this was no permanent basis of government as modern social contract theorists pretend. There is nothing to transmit that original contract onwards from generation to generation, and our experience of actual political events show that governmental authority is founded on conquest, not elections or consent. Political allegiance is ultimately based on a primary instinct of selfishness, and only through reflection will I see how I benefit from an orderly society.

          In his Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals (1751), Hume examines the origin of our conception of justice regarding private property. While he does not use the expression "right to property", his analysis is nevertheless a critique of the Lockean concept of our alleged natural right to private property. Hume argues that we have no primary instinct to recognize private property, and all conceptions of justice regarding property are founded solely on how useful the convention of private property is to us. We can see how property ownership is tied to usefulness when considering scenarios concerning the availability or unavailability of necessities. When necessities are in overabundance, I can take what I want any time, and there is no usefulness in my claiming any property as my own. When the opposite happens and necessities are scarce, I don't acknowledge anyone's claim to property and I take what I want from others for my own survival. Further, if we closely inspect human nature, we will never find a primary instinct that inclines us to acknowledge private property. It is nothing like the primary instinct of nest building in birds. While the sense of justice regarding private property is a fixed habit with us today, we still always consider the usefulness that the convention of private property has on society.

AGAINST THE ORIGINAL CONTRACT: ALLEGIANCE BASED MAINLY ON SOCIETY'S NECESSITY (from "Of the Original Contract")

Original Contract in Savage Times

. . . When we consider how nearly equal all men are in their bodily force, and even in their mental powers and faculties, till cultivated by education, we must necessarily allow that nothing but their own consent could, at first, associate them together, and subject them to any authority. The people, if we trace government to its first origin in the woods and deserts, are the source of all power and jurisdiction, and voluntarily, for the sake of peace and order, abandoned their native liberty, and received laws from their equal and companion. The conditions upon which they were willing to submit were either expressed, or were so clear and obvious, that it might well be esteemed superfluous to express them. If this, then, be meant by the original contract, it cannot be denied, that all government is, at first, founded on a contract, and that the most ancient rude combinations of mankind were formed chiefly by that principle. In vain are we asked in what records this charter of our liberties is registered. It was not written on parchment, nor yet on leaves or barks of trees. It preceded the use of writing and all the other civilized arts of life. But we trace it plainly in the nature of man, and in the equality, or something approaching equality, which we find in all the individuals of that species. The force which now prevails, and which is founded on fleets and armies, is plainly political, and derived from authority, the effect of established government. A man's natural force consists only in the vigor of his limbs, and the firmness of his courage, which could never subject multitudes to the command of one. Nothing but their own consent, and their sense of the advantages resulting from peace and order, could have had that influence.

          Yet even this consent was long very imperfect, and could not be the basis of a regular administration. The chieftain, who had probably acquired his influence during the continuance of war, ruled more by persuasion than command. And till he could employ force to reduce the refractory and disobedient, the society could scarcely be said to have attained a state of civil government. No compact or agreement, it is evident, was expressly formed for general submission, an idea far beyond the comprehension of savages. Each exertion of authority in the chieftain must have been particular, and called forth by the present exigencies of the case. The sensible utility resulting from his interposition made these exertions become daily more frequent. And their frequency gradually produced an habitual, and, if you please to call it so, a voluntary, and therefore precarious, acquiescence in the people.

The Modern Conception of an Original Contract

But philosophers who have embraced a party (if that be not a contradiction in terms) are not contented with these concessions. They assert not only that government in its earliest infancy arose from consent or rather the voluntary acquiescence of the people; but also that, even at present, when it has attained its full maturity, it rests on no other foundation. They affirm that all men are still born equal, and owe allegiance to no prince or government, unless bound by the obligation and sanction of a promise. And as no man, without some equivalent, would forego the advantages of his native liberty, and subject himself to the will of another; this promise is always understood to be conditional, and imposes on him no obligation, unless he meet with justice and protection from his sovereign. These advantages the sovereign promises him in return; and if he fail in the execution, he has broken, on his part, the articles of engagement, and has thereby freed his subject from all obligations to allegiance. Such, according to these philosophers, is the foundation of authority in every government; and such the right of resistance, possessed by every subject.

          But would these reasoners look abroad into the world, they would meet with nothing that in the least corresponds to their ideas, or can warrant so refined and philosophical a system. On the contrary, we find everywhere princes, who claim their subjects as their property, and assert their independent right of sovereignty, from conquest or succession. We find also everywhere subjects, who acknowledge this right in their prince, and suppose themselves born under obligations of obedience to a certain sovereign, as much as under the ties of reverence and duty to certain parents. These connections are always conceived to be equally independent of our consent, in Persia and China; in France and Spain; and even in Holland and England, wherever the doctrines above-mentioned have not been carefully inculcated. Obedience or subjection becomes so familiar that most men never make any enquiry about its origin or cause, more than about the principle of gravity, resistance, or the most universal laws of nature. Or if curiosity ever move them, as soon as they learn that they themselves and their ancestors have for several ages, or from time immemorial, been subject to such a form of government or such a family, they immediately acquiesce and acknowledge their obligation to allegiance. Were you to preach in most parts of the world that political connections are founded altogether on voluntary consent or a mutual promise, the magistrate would soon imprison you as seditious for loosening the ties of obedience—if your friends did not before shut you up as delirious for advancing such absurdities. It is strange that an act of the mind, which every individual is supposed to have formed, and after he came to the use of reason too, otherwise it could have no authority; that this act, I say, should be so much unknown to all of them, that, over the face of the whole earth, there scarcely remain any traces or memory of it.

No Hereditarily Binding Contract

But the contract on which government is founded is said to be the original contract, and consequently may be supposed too old to fall under the knowledge of the present generation. If the agreement, by which savage men first associated and conjoined their force, be here meant, this is acknowledged to be real; but being so ancient, and being obliterated by a thousand changes of government and princes, it cannot now be supposed to retain any authority. If we would say anything to the purpose, we must assert that every particular government, which is lawful, and which imposes any duty of allegiance on the subject, was, at first, founded on consent and a voluntary compact. But besides that this supposes the consent of the fathers to bind the children, even to the most remote generations (which republican writers will never allow), besides this, I say, it is not justified by history or experience, in any age or country of the world.

Societies Founded by Conquest

Almost all the governments which exist at present, or of which there remains any record in story, have been founded originally either on usurpation or conquest, or both, without any pretence of a fair consent, or voluntary subjection of the people. When an artful and bold man is placed at the head of an army or faction, it is often easy for him by employing, sometimes violence, sometimes false pretences, to establish his dominion over a people a hundred times more numerous than his partisans. He allows no such open communication that his enemies can know, with certainty, their number or force. He gives them no leisure to assemble together in a body to oppose him. Even all those who are the instruments of his usurpation, may wish his fall. But their ignorance of each other's intention keeps them in awe, and is the sole cause of his security. By such arts as these, many governments have been established, and this is all the original contract which they have to boast of.

          The face of the earth is continually changing by the increase of small kingdoms into great empires, by the dissolution of great empires into smaller kingdoms, by the planting of colonies, by the migration of tribes. Is there anything discoverable in all these events but force and violence? Where is the mutual agreement or voluntary association so much talked of?

          Even the smoothest way by which a nation may receive a foreign master, by marriage or a will, is not extremely honorable for the people, but supposes them to be disposed of like a dowry or a legacy according to the pleasure or interest of their rulers.

Elections no foundation of Governmental Allegiance

But where no force interposes, and election takes place, what is this election so highly vaunted? It is either the combination of a few great men who decide for the whole, and will allow of no opposition. Or it is the fury of a multitude that follow a seditious ringleader, who is not known, perhaps, to a dozen among them, and who owes his advancement merely to his own impudence, or to the momentary caprice of his fellows.

          Are these disorderly elections, which are rare too, of such mighty authority as to be the only lawful foundation of all government and allegiance?

          In reality, there is not a more terrible event than a total dissolution of government, which gives liberty to the multitude, and makes the determination or choice of a new establishment depend upon a number, which nearly approaches to that of the body of the people: for it never comes entirely to the whole body of them. Every wise man, then, wishes to see, at the head of a powerful and obedient army, a general who may speedily seize the prize, and give to the people a master which they are so unfit to choose for themselves. So little correspondent is fact and reality to those philosophical notions. . . .

Consent of the Governed is Rare

It is in vain to say that all governments are or should be at first founded on popular consent as much as the necessity of human affairs will admit. This favors entirely my pretension. I maintain that human affairs will never admit of this consent, seldom of the appearance of it. But that conquest or usurpation, that is, in plain terms, force, by dissolving the ancient governments, is the origin of almost all the new ones, which were ever established in the world. And that in the few cases where consent may seem to have taken place, it was commonly so irregular, so confined, or so much intermixed either with fraud or violence, that it cannot have any great authority.

          My intention here is not to exclude the consent of the people from being one just foundation of government where it has place. It is surely the best and most sacred of any. I only pretend that it has very seldom had place in any degree, and never almost in its full extent. And that therefore some other foundation of government must also be admitted.

          Were all men possessed of so inflexible a regard to justice that, of themselves, they would totally abstain from the properties of others, they had forever remained in a state of absolute liberty, without subjection to any magistrate or political society. But this is a state of perfection of which human nature is justly deemed incapable. Again, were all men possessed of so perfect an understanding as always to know their own interests, no form of government had ever been submitted to but what was established on consent, and was fully canvassed by every member of the society. But this state of perfection is likewise much superior to human nature. Reason, history, and experience show us that all political societies have had an origin much less accurate and regular. And were one to choose a period of time when the people's consent was the least regarded in public transactions, it would be precisely on the establishment of a new government. In a settled constitution, their inclinations are often consulted. But during the fury of revolutions, conquests, and public convulsions, military force or political craft usually decides the controversy.

Obedience through Fear, Necessity, and Acquiescence

When a new government is established by whatever means, the people are commonly dissatisfied with it, and pay obedience more from fear and necessity than from any idea of allegiance or of moral obligation. The prince is watchful and jealous, and must carefully guard against every beginning or appearance of insurrection. Time, by degrees, removes all these difficulties, and accustoms the nation to regard, as their lawful or native princes, that family which, at first, they considered as usurpers or foreign conquerors. In order to found this opinion, they have no recourse to any notion of voluntary consent or promise, which, they know, never was in this case either expected or demanded. The original establishment was formed by violence, and submitted to from necessity. The subsequent administration is also supported by power, and acquiesced in by the people, not as a matter of choice, but of obligation. They imagine not that their consent gives their prince a title: But they willingly consent, because they think that, from long possession, he has acquired a title, independent of their choice or inclination.

No Tacit Consent because No Real Choice

Should it be said that by living under the dominion of a prince, which one might leave, every individual has given a tacit consent to his authority, and promised him obedience; it may be answered that such an implied consent can only have place where a man imagines that the matter depends on his choice. But where he thinks (as all mankind do who are born under established governments) that by his birth he owes allegiance to a certain prince or certain form of government, it would be absurd to infer a consent or choice, which he expressly, in this case, renounces and disclaims.

          Can we seriously say that a poor peasant or artisan has a free choice to leave his country, when he knows no foreign language or manners, and lives from day to day by the small wages which he acquires? We may as well assert that a man, by remaining in a vessel [i.e., a ship], freely consents to the dominion of the master; though he was carried on board while asleep, and must leap into the ocean and perish the moment he leaves her. . . .

          A company of men, who should leave their native country, in order to people some uninhabited region, might dream of recovering their native freedom. But they would soon find that their prince still laid claim to them, and called them his subjects, even in their new settlement. And in this he would but act conformably to the common ideas of mankind.

          The truest tacit consent of this kind that is ever observed is when a foreigner settles in any country, and is beforehand acquainted with the prince, and government, and laws, to which he must submit. Yet is his allegiance, though more voluntary, much less expected or depended on than that of a natural born subject. On the contrary, his native prince still asserts a claim to him. And if he punish not the renegade when he seizes him in war with his new prince's commission, this clemency is not founded on the municipal law which in all countries condemns the prisoner, but on the consent of princes, who have agreed to this indulgence, in order to prevent reprisals. . . .

Allegiance an Artificial Duty based on the Necessity of Society

But would we have a more regular, at least a more philosophical, refutation of this principle of an original contract or popular consent, perhaps the following observations may suffice.

          All moral duties may be divided into two kinds. The first are those to which men are impelled by a natural instinct or immediate propensity, which operates on them independent of all ideas of obligation, and of all views, either to public or private utility. Of this nature are love of children, gratitude to benefactors, pity to the unfortunate. When we reflect on the advantage, which results to society from such humane instincts, we pay them the just tribute of moral approbation and esteem. But the person, actuated by them, feels their power and influence, antecedent to any such reflection.

          The second kind of moral duties are such as are not supported by any original instinct of nature, but are performed entirely from a sense of obligation, when we consider the necessities of human society, and the impossibility of supporting it if these duties were neglected. It is thus justice or a regard to the property of others, fidelity or the observance of promises, become obligatory and acquire an authority over mankind. For as it is evident that every man loves himself better than any other person, he is naturally impelled to extend his acquisitions as much as possible. And nothing can restrain him in this propensity but reflection and experience, by which he learns the pernicious effects of that license, and the total dissolution of society which must ensue from it. His original inclination, therefore, or instinct, is here checked and restrained by a subsequent judgment or observation.

          The case is precisely the same with the political or civil duty of allegiance, as with the natural duties of justice and fidelity. Our primary instincts lead us either to indulge ourselves in unlimited freedom, or to seek dominion over others. And it is reflection only, which engages us to sacrifice such strong passions to the interests of peace and public order. A small degree of experience and observation suffices to teach us that society cannot possibly be maintained without the authority of magistrates, and that this authority must soon fall into contempt where exact obedience is not paid to it. The observation of these general and obvious interests is the source of all allegiance, and of that moral obligation which we attribute to it.

          What necessity, therefore, is there to found the duty of allegiance or obedience to magistrates on that of fidelity or a regard to promises, and to suppose, that it is the consent of each individual, which subjects him to government; when it appears that both allegiance and fidelity stand precisely on the same foundation, and are both submitted to by mankind, on account of the apparent interests and necessities of human society? We are bound to obey our sovereign, it is said, because we have given a tacit promise to that purpose. But why are we bound to observe our promise? It must here be asserted, that the commerce and intercourse of mankind, which are of such mighty advantage, can have no security where men pay no regard to their engagements. In like manner, may it be said, that men could not live at all in society, at least in a civilized society, without laws and magistrates and judges, to prevent the encroachments of the strong upon the weak, of the violent upon the just and equitable. The obligation to allegiance being of like force and authority with the obligation to fidelity, we gain nothing by resolving the one [i.e., allegiance] into the other [i.e., fidelity]. The general interests or necessities of society are sufficient to establish both. . . .

AGAINST NATURAL JUSTICE: PROPERTY BASED SOLELY ON USEFULNESS (from An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals)

Justice regarding Property based Solely on Utility

That justice is useful to society, and consequently that part of its merit, at least, must arise from that consideration, it would be a superfluous undertaking to prove. That public utility [i.e., usefulness] is the sole origin of justice, and that reflections on the beneficial consequences of this virtue are the sole foundation of its merit, this proposition, being more curious and important, will better deserve our examination and inquiry.

No need for Private Property with Abundance

Let us suppose that nature has bestowed on the human race such profuse abundance of all external conveniences, that, without any uncertainty in the event, without any care or industry on our part, every individual finds himself fully provided with whatever his most voracious appetites can want, or luxurious imagination wish or desire. His natural beauty, we shall suppose, surpasses all acquired ornaments: the perpetual clemency of the seasons renders useless all clothes or covering: the raw herbage affords him the most delicious fare; the clear fountain, the richest beverage. No laborious occupation required: no tillage, no navigation. Music, poetry, and contemplation form his sole business: conversation, mirth, and friendship his sole amusement. It seems evident that, in such a happy state, every other social virtue would flourish, and receive tenfold increase; but the cautious, jealous virtue of justice would never once have been dreamed of. For what purpose make a partition of goods, where everyone has already more than enough? Why give rise to property, where there cannot possibly be any injury? Why call this object mine, when upon the seizing of it by another, I need but stretch out my hand to possess myself to what is equally valuable? Justice, in that case, being totally useless, would be an idle ceremonial, and could never possibly have place in the catalogue of virtues.

          We see even in the present necessitous condition of mankind that, wherever any benefit is bestowed by nature in an unlimited abundance, we leave it always in common among the whole human race, and make no subdivisions of right and property. Water and air, though the most necessary of all objects, are not challenged as the property of individuals; nor can any man commit injustice by the most lavish use and enjoyment of these blessings. In fertile extensive countries, with few inhabitants, land is regarded on the same footing. And no topic is so much insisted on by those, who defend the liberty of the seas, as the unexhausted use of them in navigation. Were the advantages, procured by navigation, as inexhaustible, these reasoners had never had any adversaries to refute; nor had any claims ever been advanced of a separate, exclusive dominion over the ocean.

          It may happen in some countries at some periods, that there be established a property in water, none in land, if the latter be in greater abundance than can be used by the inhabitants, and the former be found, with difficulty, and in very small quantities.

No Private Property with Extensive Benevolence

Again, suppose that, though the necessities of human race continue the same as at present, yet the mind is so enlarged, and so replete with friendship and generosity, that every man has the utmost tenderness for every man, and feels no more concern for his own interest than for that of his fellows. It seems evident that the use of justice would, in this case, be suspended by such an extensive benevolence, nor would the divisions and barriers of property and obligation have ever been thought of. Why should I bind another, by a deed or promise, to do me any good office, when I know that he is already prompted, by the strongest inclination, to seek my happiness, and would, of himself, perform the desired service; except the hurt, he thereby receives, be greater than the benefit accruing to me? In which case, he knows, that, from my innate humanity and friendship, I should be the first to oppose myself to his imprudent generosity. Why raise landmarks between my neighbor's field and mine, when my heart has made no division between our interests, but shares all his joys and sorrows with the same force and vivacity as if originally my own? Every man, upon this supposition, being a second self to another, would trust all his interests to the discretion of every man, without jealousy, without partition, without distinction. And the whole human race would form only one family, where all would lie in common, and be used freely, without regard to property; but cautiously too, with as entire regard to the necessities of each individual, as if our own interests were most intimately concerned.

          In the present disposition of the human heart, it would, perhaps, be difficult to find complete instances of such enlarged affections. But still we may observe that the case of families approaches towards it; and the stronger the mutual benevolence is among the individuals, the nearer it approaches; till all distinction of property be, in a great measure, lost and confounded among them. Between married persons, the cement of friendship is by the laws supposed so strong as to abolish all division of possessions; and has often, in reality, the force ascribed to it. And it is observable that, during the ardor of new enthusiasms, when every principle is inflamed into extravagance, the community of goods has frequently been attempted. And nothing but experience of its inconveniences, from the returning or disguised selfishness of men, could make the imprudent fanatics adopt anew the ideas of justice and of separate property. So true is it that this virtue derives its existence entirely from its necessary use to the intercourse and social state of mankind.

No Private Property with Extreme Lack of Necessities

To make this truth more evident, let us reverse the foregoing suppositions, and carrying everything to the opposite extreme, consider what would be the effect of these new situations. Suppose a society to fall into such want [i.e., lack] of all common necessaries, that the utmost frugality and industry cannot preserve the greater number from perishing, and the whole from extreme misery. It will readily, I believe, be admitted that the strict laws of justice are suspended, in such a pressing emergence, and give place to the stronger motives of necessity and self-preservation. Is it any crime, after a shipwreck, to seize whatever means or instrument of safety one can lay hold of, without regard to former limitations of property? Or if a city besieged were perishing with hunger; can we imagine, that men will see any means of preservation before them, and lose their lives, from a scrupulous regard to what, in other situations, would be the rules of equity and justice? The use and tendency of that virtue is to procure happiness and security by preserving order in society: but where the society is ready to perish from extreme necessity, no greater evil can be dreaded from violence and injustice; and every man may now provide for himself by all the means which prudence can dictate or humanity permit. The public, even in less urgent necessities, opens granaries without the consent of proprietors, as justly supposing, that the authority of magistracy may, consistent with equity, extend so far. But were any number of men to assemble without the tie of laws or civil jurisdiction, would an equal partition of bread in a famine, though effected by power and even violence, be regarded as criminal or injurious?

Suspension of Justice in Situations of Great Crime and War

Suppose likewise that it should be a virtuous man's fate to fall into the society of ruffians, remote from the protection of laws and government. What conduct must he embrace in that melancholy situation? He sees such a desperate rapaciousness prevail, such a disregard to equity, such contempt of order, such stupid blindness to future consequences, as must immediately have the most tragical conclusion, and must terminate in destruction to the greater number, and in a total dissolution of society to the rest. He, meanwhile, can have no other expedient than to arm himself, to whomever the sword he seizes, or the buckler, may belong: To make provision of all means of defense and security. And his particular regard to justice being no longer of use to his own safety or that of others, he must consult the dictates of self-preservation alone, without concern for those who no longer merit his care and attention.

          When any man, even in political society, renders himself by his crimes obnoxious to the public, he is punished by the laws in his goods and person. That is, the ordinary rules of justice are, with regard to him, suspended for a moment, and it becomes equitable to inflict on him, for the benefit of society, what otherwise he could not suffer without wrong or injury.

          The rage and violence of public war: what is it but a suspension of justice among the warring parties, who perceive that this virtue is now no longer of any use or advantage to them? The laws of war, which then succeed to those of equity and justice, are rules calculated for the advantage and utility of that particular state, in which men are now placed. And were a civilized nation engaged with barbarians who observed no rules even of war, the former must also suspend their observance of them, where they no longer serve to any purpose, and must render every action or recounter as bloody and pernicious as possible to the first aggressors.

Justice Arises from Usefulness

Thus, the rules of equity or justice depend entirely on the particular state and condition in which men are placed, and owe their origin and existence to that utility [i.e. usefulness], which results to the public from their strict and regular observance. Reverse, in any considerable circumstance, the condition of men. Produce extreme abundance or extreme necessity. Implant in the human breast perfect moderation and humanity, or perfect rapaciousness and malice. By rendering justice totally useless, you thereby totally destroy its essence, and suspend its obligation upon mankind. The common situation of society is a medium amidst all these extremes. We are naturally partial to ourselves, and to our friends, but are capable of learning the advantage resulting from a more equitable conduct. Few enjoyments are given us [without labor] from the open and liberal hand of nature. But [only] by art, labor, and industry, we can extract them in great abundance. Hence the ideas of property become necessary in all civil society. Hence justice derives its usefulness to the public. And hence alone arises its merit and moral obligation. . . .

          We may conclude, therefore, that, in order to establish laws for the regulation of property, we must be acquainted with the nature and situation of man, must reject appearances, which may be false, though specious, and must search for those rules, which are, on the whole, most useful and beneficial. Vulgar sense and slight experience are sufficient for this purpose; where men give not way to too selfish avidity, or too extensive enthusiasm.

          Who sees not, for instance, that whatever is produced or improved by a man's art or industry ought, forever, to be secured to him, in order to give encouragement to such useful habits and accomplishments? That the property ought also to descend to children and relations for the same useful purpose? That it may be alienated by consent, in order to beget that commerce and intercourse, which is so beneficial to human society? And that all contracts and promises ought carefully to be fulfilled, in order to secure mutual trust and confidence, by which the general interest of mankind is so much promoted?

          Examine the writers on the laws of nature [e.g., Grotius and Pufendorf]; and you will always find that, whatever principles they set out with, they are sure to terminate here at last, and to assign, as the ultimate reason for every rule which they establish, the convenience and necessities of mankind. A concession thus extorted, in opposition to systems, has more authority than if it had been made in prosecution of them.

          What other reason, indeed, could writers ever give why this must be mine and that yours, since uninstructed nature surely never made any such distinction? The objects which receive those appellations are, of themselves, foreign to us. They are totally disjoined and separated from us, and nothing but the general interests of society can form the connection. . . .

Justice does not Arise from Instinct

The dilemma seems obvious: As justice evidently tends to promote public utility and to support civil society, the sentiment of justice is either derived from our reflecting on that tendency, or like hunger, thirst, and other appetites, resentment, love of life, attachment to offspring, and other passions, arises from a simple original instinct in the human breast, which nature has implanted for like salutary purposes. If the latter be the case, it follows that property, which is the object of justice, is also distinguished by a simple original instinct, and is not ascertained by any argument or reflection. But who is there that ever heard of such an instinct? Or is this a subject in which new discoveries can be made? We may as well expect to discover in the body new senses, which had before escaped the observation of all mankind.

          But farther, though it seems a very simple proposition to say that nature, by an instinctive sentiment, distinguishes property, yet in reality we shall find, that there are required for that purpose ten thousand different instincts, and these employed about objects of the greatest intricacy and nicest discernment. For when a definition of property is required, that relation is found to resolve itself into any possession acquired by occupation, by industry, by prescription, by inheritance, by contract, etc. Can we think that nature, by an original instinct, instructs us in all these methods of acquisition?

          These words too, inheritance and contract, stand for ideas infinitely complicated, and to define them exactly a hundred volumes of laws, and a thousand volumes of commentators, have not been found sufficient. Does nature, whose instincts in men are all simple, embrace such complicated and artificial objects, and create a rational creature, without trusting anything to the operation of his reason?

          But even though all this were admitted, it would not be satisfactory. Positive laws can certainly transfer property. Is it by another original instinct that we recognize the authority of kings and senates, and mark all the boundaries of their jurisdiction? Judges too, even though their sentence be erroneous and illegal, must be allowed, for the sake of peace and order, to have decisive authority, and ultimately to determine property. Have we original innate ideas of praetors and chancellors and juries? Who sees not, that all these institutions arise merely from the necessities of human society?

          All birds of the same species in every age and country built their nests alike; in this we see the force of instinct. Men, in different times and places, frame their houses differently: Here we perceive the influence of reason and custom. A like inference may be drawn from comparing the instinct of generation and the institution of property.

          How great soever the variety of municipal laws, it must be confessed, that their chief outlines pretty regularly concur; because the purposes, to which they tend, are everywhere exactly similar. In like manner, all houses have a roof and walls, windows and chimneys; though diversified in their shape, figure, and materials. The purposes of the latter, directed to the conveniences of human life, discover not more plainly their origin from reason and reflection, than do those of the former, which point all to a like end.

          I need not mention the variations, which all the rules of property receive from the finer turns and connections of the imagination, and from the subtleties and abstractions of law-topics and reasonings. There is no possibility of reconciling this observation to the notion of original instincts.

          What alone will beget a doubt concerning the theory on which I insist, is the influence of education and acquired habits, by which we are so accustomed to blame injustice, that we are not in every instance conscious of any immediate reflection on the pernicious consequences of it. The views the most familiar to us are apt, for that very reason, to escape us. And what we have very frequently performed from certain motives, we are apt likewise to continue mechanically, without recalling on every occasion the reflections which first determined us. The convenience, or rather necessity, which leads to justice is so universal, and everywhere points so much to the same rules, that the habit takes place in all societies; and it is not without some scrutiny that we are able to ascertain its true origin. The matter, however, is not so obscure, but that even in common life we have every moment recourse to the principle of public utility and ask, "what must become of the world if such practices prevail? how could society subsist under such disorders?" Were the distinction or separation of possessions entirely useless, can anyone conceive that it ever should have obtained in society?

          Thus we seem, upon the whole, to have attained a knowledge of the force of that principle here insisted on, and can determine what degree of esteem or moral approbation may result from reflections on public interest and utility. . . .

Source: David Hume, "Of the Original Contract" (1748) from Essays, Moral, Political and Literary; "Of Justice" from Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals (1751), Sect. 3.

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MONTESQUIEU: SMALL REPUBLICS, LIBERTY AND SLAVERY

 

Charles de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu (1689–1755) was born into a wealthy family in southwest France, and is among that country's most influential political writers. His most famous work, The Spirit of the Laws (1748), was 20 years in the making and defends constitutional forms of government as the best means of preserving political liberties. Although his controversial work was placed on the Catholic Church index of banned books, it was nevertheless hailed in Britain and the American Colonies. The selections below are from this work and focus on three issues for which he is particularly famous. The first is what is now called the "small republic thesis": small countries operate best when they are republics (as opposed to monarchies or aristocracies), and they can best protect themselves through confederations with other small countries. Medium-size countries function best as monarchies, while large empires work best as aristocracies. Republics require citizens to subordinate their private interests to the public good. The larger the republic, the more difficult this is to achieve. The second issue concerns the importance of having a balanced separation of political powers. All countries, according to Montesquieu, aim at self-preservation, but England in particularly is a model for also aiming at political liberty. To preserve such liberty, a balanced separation of powers is needed, which, he argues, involves three distinct branches of government: the legislative, executive and judiciary. There can, for example, be no political liberty when the legislative and executive branches are united in the same person, since he can both enact and enforce a tyrannical law. The third issue is slavery, and Montesquieu attacks several of the common defenses of that institution. Some of the more absurd justifications of slavery he criticizes through satirical irony.

ADVANTAGES OF SMALL REPUBLICS (from The Spirit of the Laws)

8.16. Properties of a Republic

It is natural for a republic to have only a small territory, otherwise it will not survive for very long. In an extensive republic, there are men of large fortunes, and consequently of less moderation. There are responsibilities that are too considerable to be placed in any single person; he has interests of his own. He soon begins to think that he may be happy and glorious by oppressing his fellow-citizens, and that he may raise himself to grandeur on the ruins of his country.

          In a large republic, the public good is sacrificed to a thousand private views; it is subordinate to exceptions, and depends on accidents. In a small one, the interest of the public is more obvious, better understood, and more within the reach of every citizen. Abuses have less extent, and, of course, are less protected.

          The long duration of the republic of Sparta resulted from her having continued in the same size of territory after all her wars. The sole aim of Sparta was liberty, and the sole advantage of her liberty was glory.

          It was the spirit of the Greek republics to be as contented with their territories as with their laws. Athens was first fired with ambition and gave it to Lacedaemon [i.e. Sparta]. But it was an ambition of commanding a free people rather than of governing slaves, of directing rather than of breaking the union. All this was lost upon the creation of monarchy, a government whose spirit is more directed towards the increase of territory.

          Except in special circumstances, it is difficult for anything except a republican government to exist longer in a single town. A prince of so small a state would naturally try to oppress his subjects, because his power would be great, while the means of enjoying it or of causing it to be respected would be inconsiderable. The consequence is that he would trample upon his people. On the other hand, such a prince might be easily crushed by a foreign or even a domestic force; the people might at any instant unite and rise up against him. Now, as soon as the sovereign of a single town is expelled, the quarrel is over. But if he has many towns, it only begins.

8.17. Properties of a Monarchy

A monarchical state ought to be of moderate extent. If it were small, it would form itself into a republic. If it were very large, the nobility would possess great estates, far from the eye of the prince, with a private court of their own, and secure, moreover, from sudden executions by the laws and manners of the country. Such a nobility might throw off their allegiance, having nothing to fear from too slow and too distant a punishment.

          Thus, Charlemagne had scarcely founded his empire when he was forced to divide it. Perhaps the governors of the provinces refused to obey, or perhaps, to keep them more under subjection, there was a necessity of dividing the empire into several kingdoms.

          After the death of Alexander his empire was divided. How was it possible for those Greek and Macedonian chiefs, who were each of them free and independent, or commanders at least of the victorious bands dispersed throughout that vast extent of conquered land—how was it possible, I say, for them to obey?

          Attila's empire was dissolved soon after his death. Such a vast number of kings, who were no longer under restraint, could not resume their shackles.

          The sudden establishment of unlimited power is a remedy which in those cases may prevent a dissolution. But how dreadful the remedy is, which after the enlargement of territory opens a new scene of misery!

          The rivers quickly mingle their waters with the sea; and monarchies lose themselves in despotic power.

8.19. Features of a despotic Government

A large empire supposes a despotic authority in the person who governs. It is necessary that the quickness of the prince's resolutions should supply the distance of the places they are sent to; that fear should prevent the remissness of the distant governor or magistrate; that the law should be derived from a single person, and should shift continually, according to the accidents which incessantly multiply in a state in proportion to its extent.

8.20. Consequence

It is, therefore, the natural feature of small states to be governed as a republic, of middle-size ones to be subject to a monarch, and of large empires to be swayed by a despotic prince. The consequence is that, in order to preserve the principles of the established government, the state must be supported in the extent it has acquired, and that the spirit of this state will alter in proportion as it contracts or extends its limits.

9.1. Protection of Small Republics through a Confederation of Small States

If a republic is small, it is destroyed by a foreign force; if it is large, it is ruined by an internal imperfection. Democracies and aristocracies are both equally susceptible to this twofold problem, whether they are good or bad. The evil is in the very thing itself, and no form can redress it.

          Therefore, it is very probable that mankind would have been obliged to live constantly under the government of a single person for a long time, had they not contrived a kind of constitution that has all the internal advantages of a republican government, together with the external force of a monarchical government. I mean a confederate republic.

          This form of government is a convention by which several small states agree to become members of a larger one, which they intend to establish. It is a kind of assemblage of societies, that constitute a new one, capable of increasing by means of further associations, until they arrive at such a degree of power as to be able to provide for the security of the whole body.

          It was these associations that for so long contributed to the prosperity of Greece. By these the Romans attacked the whole globe, and by these alone the whole globe withstood them. For when Rome had arrived at her highest pitch of grandeur, it was the associations beyond the Danube and the Rhine—associations formed by the terror of her arms—that enabled the barbarians to resist her.

          Hence it proceeds that Holland, Germany, and the Swiss cantons are considered in Europe as perpetual republics.

          The associations of cities were formerly more necessary than in our times. A weak, defenseless town was exposed to greater danger. By conquest it was deprived not only of the executive and legislative power, as at present, but, moreover, of all human property.

          A [confederate] republic of this kind, able to withstand an external force, may support itself without any internal corruption. The form of this society prevents all types of problems.

          If a single member should attempt to seize the supreme power, he could not be supposed to have an equal authority and credit in all the confederate states. If he had too great an influence over one, this would alarm the rest. If he subdued a part of it, that which still remained free might oppose him with forces independent of those which he had seized, and overpower him before he could be settled in his usurpation.

          If a popular insurrection happens in one of the confederate states, the others can suppress it. If abuses creep into one part, they are reformed by those that retain integrity. The state may be destroyed on one side, and not on the other; the confederacy may be dissolved, and the confederates preserve their sovereignty.

          To the extent that this [confederated] government is composed of small republics, it possesses the internal happiness of each. Regarding its external threats, by means of the association, it possesses all the advantages of large monarchies.

9.2. Confederate Governments work Best with Republics

The Canaanites were destroyed because they were small monarchies that had no union or confederacy for their common defense, and, indeed, a confederacy is not agreeable to the nature of small monarchies.

          Since the confederate republic of Germany consists of free cities, and of small states subject to different princes, experience shows us that it is much more imperfect than that of Holland and Switzerland.

          The spirit of monarchy is war and enlargement of territory; peace and moderation are the spirit of a republic. These two kinds of government cannot naturally subsist in a confederate republic.

          Thus we observe, in the Roman history, that when the Veientes had chosen a king, they were immediately abandoned by all the other small republics of Tuscany. Greece was undone as soon as the kings of Macedon obtained a seat among the Amphictyons.

          The confederate republic of Germany, composed of princes and free towns, subsists by means of a chief, who is, in some respects, the magistrate of the union, in others the monarch.

POLITICAL LIBERTY

11.1. The General Idea of Liberty

I make a distinction between the laws that establish political liberty, as it relates to the constitution, and those by which it is established as it relates to the citizen. The former will be the subject of this book; the latter I will examine in the next.

11.2. Different Meanings of the Word Liberty

There is no word that has more meanings, and has made more varied impressions on the human mind, than that of liberty. Some have taken it as a means of overthrowing a person on whom they had conferred a tyrannical authority; others for the power of choosing a superior whom they are obliged to obey; others for the right of bearing arms and of being thereby enabled to use violence; others, ultimately, for the privilege of being governed by a native of their own country, or by their own laws. For much of its history, a certain nation thought liberty consisted in the privilege of wearing a long beard. Some have connected this word to one form of government exclusive of others: those who had a republican preference applied it to this type of government; those who liked a monarchical state gave it to monarchy. Thus, they have all applied the name of liberty to the government most suitable to their own customs and inclinations. As in republics, the people have not so constant and so present a view of the causes of their misery, and as the magistrates seem to act only in conformity to the laws, hence liberty is generally said to reside in republics, and to be banished from monarchies. Thus, as in democracies the people seem to act almost as they please, this sort of government has been considered the most free, and the power of the people has been confused with their liberty.

11.3-4. Liberty is Confined by the Laws

It is true that in democracies the people seem to act as they please; but political liberty does not consist in an unlimited freedom. In governments, that is, in societies directed by laws, liberty can consist only in the power of doing what we ought to will, and in not being constrained to do what we ought not to will.

          We must have continually present to our minds the difference between independence and liberty. Liberty is a right of doing whatever the laws permit, and if a citizen could [independently] do what the laws forbid he would be no longer possessed of liberty, because all his fellow-citizens would have the same power.

          Democratic and aristocratic states are not free by their own nature. Political liberty is to be found only in moderate governments; and even in these it is not always found. It is there only when there is no abuse of power. But constant experience shows us that every man invested with power is quick to abuse it, and to carry his authority as far as it will go. Is it not strange, though true, to say that virtue itself has need of limits?

          To prevent this abuse, it is necessary from the very nature of things that power should be a check to power. A government may be so constituted so that no man shall be compelled to do things to which the law does not oblige him, nor forced to abstain from things which the law permits.

11.5. Different Aims of Different Governments, England aims at Political Liberty

All governments have the same general end, which is that of preservation, but each has another particular aim. Increase of territory was the object of Rome; war was that of Sparta; religion was that of the Jewish laws; commerce was that of Marseilles; public tranquility was that of the laws of China; navigation was that of the laws of Rhodes; natural liberty was that of the policy of the savages; in general, the pleasures of the prince was that of despotic states; the prince's and the kingdom's glory is that of monarchies. The independence of individuals is the end aimed at by the laws of Poland, and from this results the oppression of the whole.

          There is also one nation in the world [i.e., England] that has political liberty for the direct end of its constitution. We will presently examine the principles on which this liberty is founded. If they are sound, liberty will appear in its highest perfection.

          To discover political liberty in a constitution, no great effort is required. If we are capable of seeing it where it exists, it is soon found, and we need not go far in search of it.

11.6. Separation of Powers to Preserve Liberty

In every government there are three sorts of power: the legislative; the executive in respect to things dependent on the [international] law of nations; and the executive in regard to matters that depend on the civil law [i.e., the judicial].

          By virtue of the first, the prince or magistrate enacts temporary or perpetual laws, and amends or abolishes those that have been already enacted. By the second, he makes peace or war, sends or receives embassies, establishes the public security, and provides against invasions. By the third, he punishes criminals, or determines the disputes that arise between individuals. The latter we will call the judiciary power, and the other simply the executive power of the state.

          The political liberty of the subject is a tranquility of mind arising from the opinion each person has of his safety. To have this liberty, it is necessary that the government be so constituted so that one person need not be afraid of another.

          When the legislative and executive powers are united in the same person, or in the same body of magistrates, there can be no liberty. For, concerns may arise if the same monarch or senate should enact tyrannical laws, to execute them in a tyrannical way.

          Again, there is no liberty if the judiciary power is not separated from the legislative and executive. If it were joined with the legislative, the life and liberty of the subject would be exposed to arbitrary control; for the judge would be then the legislator. If it were joined to the executive power, the judge might behave with violence and oppression.

          There would be an end of everything if the same man or the same body, whether of the nobles or of the people, were to exercise those three powers, that of enacting laws, that of executing the public resolutions, and of trying the causes of individuals. . . .

SLAVERY

15.1. Wrongfulness of Slavery

Slavery, properly so called, is the establishment of a right which gives to one man such a power over another as makes him absolute master of his life and fortune. The state of slavery is in its own nature bad. It is neither useful to the master nor to the slave. It is not to the slave, because he can do nothing through a motive of virtue. It is not to the master because, by having an unlimited authority over his slaves, he insensibly accustoms himself to the lack of all moral virtues, and from there becomes fierce, impulsive, severe, angry, self-indulgent, and cruel.

          In despotic countries, where they are already in a state of political servitude, civil slavery is more tolerable than in other governments. Everyone ought to be satisfied in those countries with necessities and life. Hence the condition of a slave is hardly more burdensome than that of a subject.

          But in a monarchical government, where it is of the utmost importance that human nature should not be debased or dispirited, there ought to be no slavery. Slavery is contrary to the spirit of the constitution in democracies, where they are all equal. So too in aristocracies, where the laws ought to use their utmost efforts to procure as great an equality as the nature of the government will permit. It only contributes to give a power and luxury to the citizens which they ought not to have.

15.2. Three Source of Slavery among the Roman Civilians

One would never have imagined that slavery should owe its birth to pity, and that this should have been brought about in three different ways.

          [First,] the law of nations to prevent prisoners from being put to death has allowed them to be made slaves. [Second,] the civil law of the Romans empowered debtors, who were subject to be ill-used by their creditors, to sell themselves. And [third] the law of nature requires that children whom a father in a state of servitude is no longer able to maintain should be reduced to the same state as the father.

          These reasons of the [Roman] civilians are all false. [Regarding the first,] it is false that killing in war is lawful, unless in a case of absolute necessity. But when a man has made another his slave, he cannot be said to have been under a necessity of taking away his life, since he actually did not take it away. War gives no other right over prisoners than to disable them from doing any further harm by securing their persons. All nations agree in detesting the murdering of prisoners in cold blood.

          [Regarding the second,] neither is it true that a freeman can sell himself. Sale implies a price. Now when a person sells himself, his whole substance immediately transfers to his master; the master, therefore, in that case, gives nothing, and the slave receives nothing. You will say he has an exclusive personal property. But this exclusive personal property goes along with his person. If it is not lawful for a man to kill himself because he robs his country of his person, for the same reason he is not allowed to barter his freedom. The freedom of every citizen constitutes a part of the public liberty, and in a democratic state is even a part of the sovereignty. To sell one's freedom is so repugnant to all reason as can scarcely be supposed in any man. If liberty may be rated with respect to the buyer, it is beyond all price to the seller. The civil law, which authorizes a division of goods among men, cannot be thought to rank among such goods a part of the men who were to make this division. The same law annuls all unjust contracts; surely then it affords redress in a contract where the grievance is most enormous.

          The third way is birth, which falls with the two former; for if a man could not sell himself, much less could he sell an unborn infant. If a prisoner of war is not to be reduced to slavery, much less are his children.

          The lawfulness of putting a criminal to death arises from this circumstance: the law by which he is punished was made for his security. A murderer, for instance, has received the benefit of the very law which condemns him; it has been a continual protection to him; he cannot, therefore, object to it. But it is not so with the slave. The law of slavery can never be beneficial to him; it is in every way against him, without ever being for his advantage. Therefore, this law is contrary to the fundamental principle of all societies.

          If it is pretended that slavery has been beneficial to him, since his master has provided for his subsistence, then by this reasoning slavery should be limited to those who are incapable of earning their livelihood. But who will [voluntarily] take up with such slaves? As to infants, nature, who has supplied their mothers with milk, had provided for their sustenance; and the remainder of their childhood approaches so near the age in which they are most capable of being of service that he who supports them cannot be said to give them an equivalent which can entitle him to be their master.

          Nor is slavery less opposed to the civil law than to that of nature. What civil law can restrain a slave from running away, since he is not a member of society, and consequently has no interest in any civil institutions? He can be retained only by a family law, that is, by the master's authority.

15.3. Origin of Slavery from Cultural differences

A plausible explanation of slavery is that the right of slavery proceeds from the contempt of one nation for another, founded on a difference in customs.

          Lopez de Gama relates that the Spaniards found near St. Martha several basketsful of crabs, snails, grasshoppers, and locusts, which proved to be the ordinary provision of the natives. The conquerors [who found these foods disgusting] turned this into a serious accusation against the conquered. The author states that this, with their smoking and trimming their beards in a different manner, gave rise to the law by which the [native] Americans became slaves to the Spaniards.

          Knowledge humanizes mankind, and reason inclines to mildness; but prejudices eradicate every tender disposition.

15.4. Origin of Slavery from Religious Conversion

Another plausible explanation of slavery is that religion gives its advocates a right to enslave those who dissent from it, in order to render its propagation easier.

          This was the notion that encouraged the unjust ravagers of America. Under the influence of this idea they founded their right of enslaving so many nations; for these robbers, who would absolutely be both robbers and Christians, were superlatively devout.

          Louis XII was very uneasy about a law by which all blacks of his colonies were to be made slaves. But, when it was persuasively urged to him that this was the easiest means for their conversion, he agreed without further regret.

15.5. Absurd Arguments for the Slavery of Blacks

If I were to justify our right to enslave blacks, these would be my arguments:

          The Europeans, having exterminated the Americans, were obliged to make slaves of the Africans, for clearing such vast tracts of land.

          Sugar would be too costly if the plants which produce it were cultivated by any other than slaves. . . .

          It is so natural to look upon color as the criterion of human nature, that the Asians, among whom eunuchs are employed, always deprive the blacks of their resemblance to us by a more contemptuous distinction.

          The color of the skin may be determined by that of the hair, which, among the Egyptians, the best philosophers in the world, was of such importance that they put to death all the red-haired men who fell into their hands.

          The blacks prefer a glass necklace to that gold which polite nations so highly value. Can there be a greater proof of their lacking common sense?

          It is impossible for us to suppose these creatures to be men, because, allowing them to be men, a suspicion would follow that we ourselves are not Christians.

          Weak minds exaggerate too much the wrong done to the Africans. For were the case as they state it, would the European powers, who make so many needless conventions among themselves, have failed to enter into a general one, in behalf of humanity and compassion?

15.6. Reasonable Slavery in Despotic Countries

It is time to inquire into the true origin of the right of slavery. It ought to be founded on the nature of things; let us see if there are any cases where it can be derived from this.

          In all despotic governments people make no difficulty in selling themselves; the political slavery in some measure annihilates the civil liberty.

          According to Mr. Perry, the Muscovites sell themselves very readily: their reason for it is evident; their liberty is not worth keeping.

          At [the German town of] Achim everyone is for selling himself. Some of the chief lords have not less than a thousand slaves, all principal merchants, who have a great number of slaves themselves, and these also are not without their slaves. Their masters are their heirs, and put them into trade. In those states, the freemen being overpowered by the government, have no better resource than that of making themselves slaves to the tyrants in office.

          This is the true and rational origin of that mild law of slavery which obtains in some countries. Mild it ought to be, since it is founded on the free choice a man makes of a master for his own benefit, which forms a mutual convention between the two parties.

15.7. Heat Fatigue an Absurd Argument for Slavery

There is another origin of the right of slavery, and even of the cruelest slavery which is to be seen among men.

          There are countries where the excess of heat weakens the body, and renders men so slothful and dispirited that nothing but the fear of punishment can oblige them to perform any laborious duty. Slavery is there more reconcilable to reason; and the master being as lazy with respect to his sovereign as his slave is with regard to him, this adds a political to a civil slavery.

          Aristotle tries to prove that there are natural slaves; but what he says is far from proving it. If there are any such, I believe they are those of whom I have been speaking.

          But as all men are born equal, slavery must be accounted unnatural, though in some countries it is founded on natural reason. A wide difference ought to be made between such countries, and those in which even natural reason rejects it, as in Europe, where it has been so happily abolished.

          Plutarch, in the Life of Numa, says that in Saturn's time there was neither slave nor master. Christianity has restored that age in our climates.

15.8. Tasks of Slaves performed by Freemen

Natural slavery, then, is to be limited to some particular parts of the world. In all other countries, even the most servile drudgeries may be performed by freemen. Experience verifies my assertion. Before Christianity had abolished civil slavery in Europe, working in the mines was judged too toilsome for any but slaves or criminals: at present there are men employed in them who are known to live comfortably. The magistrates have, by some small privileges, encouraged this profession: to an increase of labor they have joined an increase of gain. They have gone so far as to make those people better pleased with their condition than with any other which they could have embraced.

          No labor is so heavy that it cannot be brought to a level with the workman's strength, when regulated by fairness, and not by greed. The extreme exhaustion which slaves are made to undergo in other parts may be supplied by a skillful use of inventive machines. The Turkish mines in the Bannat of Temeswaer, though richer than those of Hungary, did not yield so much, because the working of them depended entirely on the strength of their slaves.

          I do not know whether this article is dictated by my understanding or by my heart. Possibly there is not that climate upon earth where the most laborious task might not with proper encouragement be performed by freemen. Bad laws having made lazy men, they have been reduced to slavery because of their laziness.

Source: Charles de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu, Spirit of the Laws (1748), tr. Thomas Nugent.

 

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JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU: POLITICAL INEQUALITY AND THE SOCIAL CONTRACT

 

Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was born in Geneva, Switzerland into a family of watchmakers, and he eventually became a leading figure in the European enlightenment. Rousseau lived for some time in Paris, but the controversial nature of his writings forced him to flee France for refuge in Switzerland. The selections below are from two of his most influential works, which had an impact on the French Revolution. In The Discourse on the Origin of Inequality (1754) he theorizes about how political inequality emerged as people moved from primitive tribal environments to more complex societies. In the state of nature, he argues, people are equal and, being concerned only with their actual necessities, they operated under the principle "Do good to yourself with as little evil as possible to others." This changed when people desired to possess more than they actually needed, which resulted in the creation of private property. Equality then disappeared, and there arose theft, slavery and other social conflicts. As nations developed, they similarly fell into conflict by pursuing the resources of their neighbors.

          In The Social Contract (1762), Rousseau argues that there were too many obstacles for freedom in the state of nature, and the social contract created a new social force to overcome those obstacles. Through the social contract, people gave up their natural liberty but gained civil liberty and ownership of possessions. For the social contract to work, everyone must obey the general will, by force if necessary. The general will is the Sovereign of society, and is concerned with common interests. This differs from the "will of all," which includes private interests. Often, the private interests of the "will of all" cancel each other out, and may reflect the general will. But a dominant faction of private interests destroys the general will. Through the social contract, citizens transfer their rights to life over to the general will, and thus rebels, traitors and the uncompliant may be executed for the good of the state. Traditional religions are disruptive to the general will since they are partisan and disunify society. Accordingly, all religions must be required to tolerate each other. A civil religion, then, must be developed which advocates belief in God, divine punishment in the afterlife, the sanctity of the social contract, and toleration towards all religions.

          In Emile, or on Education (1762), Rousseau discusses how education prepares people for social life. In his autobiography he states that Emile is the best and most important of his works, and the work indeed had a major impact for its view of what is often called "negative education." On this view, education should not involve a teacher feeding the student knowledge, but instead, the teacher providing an environment for the student's natural self-discovery. In the book, Rousseau proceeds by taking an "imaginary pupil" who he names "Emile" and "guides him from birth to manhood." Three short discussions of this lengthy work are excerpted here. First he explains that we must educate people in way that follows nature the best we can. Second, he defends the deistic view of preferring "natural religion" over traditional "revealed religion" grounded in scripture and church authority. It is this discussion that resulted in the banning and burning of the book within Paris and Geneva, and Rousseau fleeing to England for refuge. Third, he discusses the education that women should receive, based on their natural weakness and submissiveness. His position is that women should be educated to develop their charm to get what they want from men, rather than women resorting to bitterness or anger, which will only hurt the woman in the long run.

THE ORIGIN OF POLITICAL INEQUALITY (from Discourse on Inequality)

Physical vs. Political Inequality (Preface, Introduction)

Of all human sciences the most useful and most imperfect appears to me to be that of mankind: and I will dare to say, the single inscription on the Temple of Delphi [i.e., "Know Thyself"] contained a precept more difficult and more important than is to be found in all the huge volumes that moralists have ever written. I consider the subject of the following discourse as one of the most interesting questions philosophy can propose, and unhappily for us, one of the most thorny that philosophers can have to solve. For how will we know the source of inequality between men, if we do not begin by knowing mankind? . . .

          I hold that there are two kinds of inequality among the human species. One I call natural or physical, because it is established by nature, and consists in a difference of age, health, bodily strength, and the qualities of the mind or of the soul. The other may be called moral or political inequality, because it depends on a kind of convention, and is established, or at least authorized by the consent of men. This latter consists of the different privileges, which some men enjoy to the prejudice of others; such as that of being more rich, more honored, more powerful or even in a position to demand obedience. . . .

          The subject of the present discourse, therefore, is more precisely this. To determine, in the progress of things, the moment at which right took the place of violence and nature became subject to law, and to explain by what sequence of miracles the strong came to submit to serve the weak, and the people to purchase imaginary peacefulness at the expense of real happiness. . . .

          Let us begin then by laying facts aside, as they do not affect the question. The investigations we may enter into, in treating this subject, must not be considered as historical truths, but only as mere conditional and hypothetical reasonings, rather calculated to explain the nature of things, than to ascertain their actual origin; just like the hypotheses which our physicists daily form respecting the formation of the world.

Life in the State of Nature involved Compassion and Rational Justice (Part 1)

Let us not conclude, with Hobbes, that because man has no idea of goodness, he must be naturally wicked; that he is vicious because he does not know virtue; that he always refuses to do his fellow-creatures services which he does not think they have a right to demand; or that by virtue of the right he truly claims to everything he needs, he foolishly imagines himself the sole proprietor of the whole universe.

          It is then certain that compassion is a natural feeling which, by moderating the violence of love of self in each individual, contributes to the preservation of the whole species. It is this compassion that hurries us without reflection to the relief of those who are in distress: it is this which in a state of nature supplies the place of laws, morals and virtues, with the advantage that none are tempted to disobey its gentle voice: it is this which will always prevent a sturdy savage from robbing a weak child or a feeble old man of the sustenance they may have with pain and difficulty acquired, if he sees a possibility of providing for himself by other means: it is this which, instead of inculcating that sublime maxim of rational justice, Do to others as you would have them do unto you, inspires all men with that other maxim of natural goodness, much less perfect indeed, but perhaps more useful; Do good to yourself with as little evil as possible to others. In a word, it is rather in this natural feeling than in any subtle arguments that we must look for the cause of that repugnance, which every man would experience in doing evil, even independently of the maxims of education. Although it might belong to Socrates and other minds of the like craft to acquire virtue by reason, the human race would long since have ceased to be, had its preservation depended only on the reasonings of the individuals composing it.

          Their passions were not very active and were easy to restrain. Men were more wild than wicked, and more intent to guard themselves against the harm that might be done to them, than to do harm to others, and thus not subject to very dangerous disagreements. They maintained no kind of interaction with one another, and were consequently strangers to vanity, deference, esteem and contempt. They had not the least idea of meum and tuum [mine and thine], and no true conception of justice. They looked upon every violence to which they were subjected, rather as an injury that might easily be repaired than as a crime that ought to be punished. They never thought of taking revenge, unless perhaps mechanically and on the spot, as a dog will sometimes bite the stone which is thrown at him. Their quarrels therefore would seldom have very bloody consequences; for the subject of them would be merely the question of subsistence. . . .

          Consider, then, man in a state of nature, wandering up and down the forests, without industry, without speech, and without home, an equal stranger to war and to all ties, neither standing in need of his fellow-creatures nor having any desire to hurt them, and perhaps even not distinguishing them one from another. Let us conclude that, being self-sufficient and subject to so few passions, he could have no feelings or knowledge except those that suited his situation. He felt only his actual necessities, and disregarded everything he did not think himself immediately concerned to notice, and his understanding made no greater progress than his vanity. If by accident he made any discovery, he was even less able to communicate it to others, as he did not know even his own children. Every skill would necessarily die with its inventor, since there was no kind of education among men, and generations succeeded generations without the least advance. Thus, all setting out again from the same point, centuries must have elapsed in the barbarism of the first ages. The then race was already old, and man remained a child.

          If I have expounded at such length on this supposed primitive state, it is because I had so many ancient errors and ingrained prejudices to eradicate. I therefore thought it required of me to dig down to their very root, and show, by means of a true picture of the state of nature, how far even the natural inequalities of mankind are from having that reality and influence which modern writers suppose.

Creation of Property and its Negative Consequences (Part 2)

The first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, thought himself of saying This is mine, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society. From how many crimes, wars and murders, from how many horrors and misfortunes might not any one have saved mankind, by pulling up the stakes, or filling up the ditch, and crying to his fellows, "Beware of listening to this impostor; you are undone if you now forget that the fruits of the earth belong to us all, and the earth itself to nobody." But it is highly probable that things had then already come to such a pitch, that they could no longer continue as they were. For the idea of property depends on many prior ideas, which could only be acquired successively, and cannot have been formed all at once in the human mind. . . .

          But it must be remarked that the society thus formed, and the relations thus established among men, required of them qualities different from those which they possessed from their primitive constitution. Morality began to appear in human actions, and everyone, before the institution of law, was the only judge and avenger of the injuries done to him. Thus, the goodness which was suitable in the pure state of nature was no longer proper in the new-born state of society. Punishments had to be made more severe, as opportunities of offending became more frequent, and the dread of vengeance had to take the place of the rigor of the law. Thus, though men had become less patient, and their natural compassion had already suffered some diminution, this period of expansion of the human faculties, keeping a just mean between the indolence of the primitive state and the ill-tempered activity of our egoism, must have been the happiest and most stable of epochs. The more we reflect on it, the more we will find that this state was the least subject to revolutions, and altogether the very best man could experience. Thus, he can have departed from it only through some fatal accident, which, for the public good, should never have happened. The example of savages, most of whom have been found in this state, seems to prove that men were meant to remain in it, that it is the real youth of the world, and that all subsequent advances have been apparently so many steps towards the perfection of the individual, but in reality towards the decrepitude of the species.

          Consider if men remained content with their rustic huts, so long as they were satisfied with clothes made of the skins of animals and sewn together with thorns and fish bones, adorned themselves only with feathers and shells, and continued to paint their bodies different colors, to improve and beautify their bows and arrows and to make with sharp-edged stones fishing boats or clumsy musical instruments. In a word, so long as they undertook only what a single person could accomplish, and confined themselves to such skills as did not require the joint labor of several hands, they lived free, healthy, honest and happy lives, so long as their nature allowed, and as they continued to enjoy the pleasures of mutual and independent interaction. But from the moment one man began to stand in need of the help of another; from the moment it appeared advantageous to any one man to have enough provisions for two, equality disappeared, property was introduced, work became indispensable, and vast forests became smiling fields, which man had to water with the sweat of his brow, and where slavery and misery were soon seen to sprout and grow with the crops. . . .

          Thus, as the most powerful or the most miserable considered their might or misery as a kind of right to the possessions of others (equivalent, in their opinion, to that of property), the destruction of equality was attended by the most terrible disorders. Confiscation by the rich, robbery by the poor, and the unrestrained passions of both, suppressed the cries of natural compassion and the still weak voice of justice, and filled men with avarice, ambition and vice. Between the title of the strongest and that of the first occupier, there arose perpetual conflicts, which never ended but in battles and bloodshed. The new-born state of society thus gave rise to a horrible state of war. Men thus harassed and depraved were no longer capable of retracing their steps or renouncing the fatal acquisitions they had made, but, laboring by the abuse of the faculties which do them honor, merely to their own confusion, brought themselves to the brink of ruin. . . .

          Such was, or may well have been, the origin of society and law, which placed new shackles on the poor, and gave new powers to the rich. This irretrievably destroyed natural liberty, permanently fixed the law of property and inequality, converted clever usurpation into unalterable right, and, for the advantage of a few ambitious individuals, subjected all mankind to perpetual labor, slavery and misery. . . . Societies soon multiplied and spread over the face of the earth, until hardly a corner of the world was left in which a man could escape the yoke, and withdraw his head from beneath the sword which he saw perpetually hanging over him by a thread. . . . But political bodies, remaining thus in a state of nature among themselves, presently experienced the problems which had forced individuals to abandon it. For this state became still more fatal to these great bodies than it had been to the individuals of whom they were composed. Hence arose national wars, battles, murders, and retaliations, which shock nature and outrage reason. . . .

Conclusion

I have attempted to trace the origin and progress of inequality, and the institution and abuse of political societies, as far as these are capable of being deduced from the nature of man merely by the light of reason, and independently of those sacred dogmas which give the sanction of divine right to sovereign authority. It follows from this survey that, as there is hardly any inequality in the state of nature, all the inequality which now exists owes its strength and growth to the development of our faculties and the advance of the human mind, and eventually becomes permanent and legitimate by the establishment of property and laws. Secondly, it follows that moral inequality authorized by positive [human-created] right alone, clashes with natural right, whenever it is not proportionate to physical inequality. This is a distinction which sufficiently determines what we should think about that type of inequality which exists in all civilized countries. For, it is plainly contrary to the law of nature (regardless of how it is defined) that children should command the old, fools the wise, and that the privileged few should gorge themselves with luxuries, while the starving multitude are in need of life's basic necessities.

THE SOCIAL CONTRACT (from The Social Contract)

Subject of the First Book (1.1)

Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks himself the master of others, but still remains a greater slave than they are. How did this change come about? I do not know. What can make it legitimate? That question I think I can answer.

          If I took into account only force and what results from it, I would say: "As long as a people is compelled to obey, and obeys, it does well by obeying; but as soon as it can shake off the yoke, and shakes it off, it does still better. For, regaining its liberty by the same right that took it away, either it is justified in resuming it, or there was no justification for those who took it away." But the social order is a sacred right which is the basis of all other rights. Nevertheless, this right does not come from nature, and must therefore be founded on conventions. Before coming to that, I have to prove what I have just asserted.

The First Societies: Natural liberty, Force Creates no Right, Slavery Illegitimate (1.2-4)

The most ancient of all societies, and the only one that is natural, is the family: and even so the children remain attached to the father only so long as they need him for their preservation. As soon as this need ceases, the natural bond is dissolved. The children, released from the obedience they owed to the father, and the father, released from the care he owed his children, return equally to independence. If they remain united, they continue so no longer naturally, but voluntarily; and the family itself is then maintained only by convention.

          This common liberty results from the nature of man. His first law is to provide for his own preservation, his first cares are those which he owes to himself. As soon as he reaches years of discretion, he is the sole judge of the proper means of preserving himself, and consequently becomes his own master. . . .

          The strongest is never strong enough to be always the master, unless he transforms strength into right, and obedience into duty. Hence the right of the strongest (which, though to everyone seems to be meant ironically) is really laid down as a fundamental principle. But are we never to have an explanation of this phrase? Force is a physical power, and I fail to see what moral effect it can have. To yield to force is an act of necessity, not of will—at the most, an act of practicality. In what sense can it be a duty? . . . Let us then admit that force does not create right, and that we are obliged to obey only legitimate powers. In that case, my original question recurs.

          Since no man has a natural authority over his fellow, and might creates no right, we must conclude that conventions form the basis of all legitimate authority among men. . . .

          So, from whatever aspect we regard the question, the right of slavery is null and void, not only as being illegitimate, but also because it is absurd and meaningless. The words slave and right contradict each other, and are mutually exclusive. It will always be equally foolish for a man to say to a man or to a people: "I make with you a convention wholly at your expense and wholly to my advantage; I will keep it as long as I like, and you will keep it as long as I like." . . .

The Social Contract: A Combined Force to Overcome the Obstacles in the State of Nature (1.6)

I suppose men to have reached the point at which the obstacles in the way of their preservation in the state of nature show their power of resistance to be greater than the resources at the disposal of each individual for his maintenance in that state. That primitive condition can then no longer exist, and the human race would die out unless it changed its manner of existence.

          But, as men cannot create new forces, but only unite and direct existing ones, they have no other way of preserving themselves than the formation, by aggregation, of a sum of forces great enough to overcome the resistance. These they have to bring into play by means of a single motive power, and cause to act in agreement.

          This sum of forces can arise only where several persons come together. But, as the force and liberty of each man are the main instruments of his self-preservation, how can he pledge them without harming his own interests, and neglecting the care he owes to himself? This difficulty, in its bearing on my present subject, may be stated in the following terms:

          "The problem is to find a form of association which will defend and protect with the whole common force the person and goods of each associate, and in which each, while uniting himself with all, may still obey himself alone, and remain as free as before." This is the fundamental problem of which the Social Contract provides the solution.

          The clauses of this contract are so determined by the nature of the act that the slightest modification would make them vain and ineffective. Thus, although they have perhaps never been formally set forth, they are everywhere the same and everywhere tacitly admitted and recognized, until, on the violation of the social contract, each regains his original rights and resumes his natural liberty. . . .

Individuals Forced to Follow the General Will (1.7)

This formula shows us that the act of association comprises a mutual undertaking between the public and the individuals, and that each individual, in making a contract with himself (as we may say), is bound in a double capacity. As a member of the Sovereign he is bound to the individuals, and as a member of the State he is bound to the Sovereign. But the maxim of civil right, that no one is bound by undertakings made to himself, does not apply in this case; for there is a great difference between taking on an obligation to yourself and taking on one to a whole of which you form a part. . . .

          In fact, each individual, as a man, may have a particular will contrary or dissimilar to the general will which he has as a citizen. His particular interest may speak to him quite differently from the common interest. His absolute and naturally independent existence may make him look upon what he owes to the common cause as a gratuitous contribution, the loss of which will do less harm to others than the payment of it is burdensome to himself. Regarding the moral person which constitutes the State as a persona ficta [artificial person], because it is not a man, he may wish to enjoy the rights of citizenship without being ready to fulfil the duties of a subject. The continuance of such an injustice could not but prove the undoing of the political body.

          In order then that the social contract may not be an empty formula, it tacitly includes the undertaking, which alone can give force to the rest, that whoever refuses to obey the general will must be compelled to do so by the whole body. This means nothing less than that he will be forced to be free. For this is the condition which, by giving each citizen to his country, secures him against all personal dependence. In this lies the key to the working of the political machine. This alone legitimizes civil undertakings, which, without it, would be absurd, tyrannical, and liable to the most frightful abuses.

Benefits of the Civil State: Civil Liberty and Property Ownership (1.8-9)

The passage from the state of nature to the civil state produces a very remarkable change in man, by substituting justice for instinct in his conduct, and giving his actions the morality they had formerly lacked. Then only, when the voice of duty takes the place of physical impulses and right of appetite, does man, who so far had considered only himself, find that he is forced to act on different principles, and to consult his reason before listening to his inclinations. In this state, he deprives himself of some advantages which he obtained from nature, but he gains in return others very great. His faculties are stimulated and developed, his ideas so extended, his feelings so ennobled, and his whole soul so uplifted. They are so much so that, if the abuses of this new condition only infrequently degraded him below that which he left, he would be bound to bless continually the happy moment which took him from it forever. Through this, instead of remaining a stupid and unimaginative animal, he was made into an intelligent being and a man.

          Let us draw up the whole account in terms easily calculable. What man loses by the social contract in his natural liberty and an unlimited right to everything he tries to get and succeeds in getting; what he gains is civil liberty and the proprietorship of all he possesses. If we are to avoid mistake in weighing one against the other, we must clearly distinguish natural liberty, which is bounded only by the strength of the individual, from civil liberty, which is limited by the general will; and possession, which is merely the effect of force or the right of the first occupier, from property, which can be founded only on a positive title. . . .

          In general, to establish the right of the first occupier over a plot of ground, the following conditions are necessary. First, the land must not yet be inhabited. Secondly, a man must occupy only the amount he needs for his subsistence. In the third place, possession must be taken, not by an empty ceremony, but by labor and cultivation, the only sign of proprietorship that should be respected by others, in default of a legal title. . . .

General Will (Sovereignty) is Inalienable, Indivisible, (2.1-2)

The first and most important deduction from the principles we have so far laid down is that the general will alone can direct the State according to the object for which it was instituted, i.e. the common good: for if the clashing of particular interests made the establishment of societies necessary, the agreement of these very interests made it possible. The common element in these different interests is what forms the social tie. Were there no point of agreement between them all, no society could exist. It is solely on the basis of this common interest that every society should be governed.

          I hold then that Sovereignty, being nothing less than the exercise of the general will, can never be alienated, and that the Sovereign, who is no less than a collective being, cannot be represented except by himself. The power indeed may be transmitted, but not the will. . . .

          Sovereignty, for the same reason as makes it inalienable, is indivisible. For, will either is, or is not, general; it is the will either of the body of the people, or only of a part of it. In the first case, the will, when declared, is an act of Sovereignty and constitutes law: in the second, it is merely a particular will, or act of magistracy—at the most a decree. . . .

The General Will vs. the Will of All and Factions (2.3-4)

It follows from what has gone before that the general will is always right and tends to the public advantage; but it does not follow that the deliberations of the people are always equally correct. Our will is always for our own good, but we do not always see what that is; the people are never corrupted, but are often deceived, and on such occasions only does it seem to will what is bad.

          There is often a great deal of difference between the will of all and the general will. The latter considers only the common interest, while the former takes private interest into account, and is no more than a sum of particular wills: but take away from these same wills the pluses and minuses that cancel one another, and the general will remains as the sum of the differences.

          If, when the people, being furnished with adequate information, held its deliberations, the citizens had no communication one with another, the grand total of the small differences would always give the general will, and the decision would always be good. But when factions arise, and partial associations are formed at the expense of the great association, the will of each of these associations becomes general in relation to its members, while it remains particular in relation to the State. It may then be said that there are no longer as many votes as there are men, but only as many as there are associations. The differences become less numerous and give a less general result. Lastly, when one of these associations is so great as to prevail over all the rest, the result is no longer a sum of small differences, but a single difference. In this case there is no longer a general will, and the opinion which prevails is purely particular.

          It is therefore essential, if the general will is to be able to express itself, that there should be no partial society within the State, and that each citizen should think only his own thoughts. This was indeed the sublime and unique system established by the great Lycurgus. But if there are partial societies, it is best to have as many as possible and to prevent them from being unequal, as was done by Solon, Numa and Servius. These precautions are the only ones that can guarantee that the general will shall be always enlightened, and that the people will in no way deceive itself. . . .

          If the State is a moral person whose life is in the union of its members, and if the most important of its cares is the care for its own preservation, it must have a universal and compelling force, in order to move and dispose each part as may be most advantageous to the whole. As nature gives each man absolute power over all his members, the social contract gives the political body absolute power over all its members also; and it is this power which, under the direction of the general will, bears, as I have said, the name of Sovereignty. . . .

Death Penalty for Rebels and Traitors (2.5)

The question is often asked how individuals, having no right to dispose of their own lives, can transfer to the Sovereign a right which they do not possess. The difficulty of answering this question seems to me to lie in its being wrongly stated. Every man has a right to risk his own life in order to preserve it. Has it ever been said that a man, who throws himself out of the window to escape from a fire, is guilty of suicide? Has such a crime ever been assigned to the accusation of him who perishes in a storm because, when he went on board, he knew of the danger?

          The social treaty has for its end the preservation of the contracting parties. He who wills the end also wills the means, and the means must involve some risks, and even some losses. He who wishes to preserve his life at others expense should also, when it is necessary, be ready to give it up for their sake. Furthermore, the citizen is no longer the judge of the dangers to which the law desires him to expose himself; and when the prince says to him: "It is beneficial for the State that you should die," he ought to die, because it is only on that condition that he has been living in security up to the present, and because his life is no longer a mere bounty of nature, but a gift made conditionally by the State.

          The death-penalty inflicted upon criminals may be looked on in much the same light. It is in order that we may not fall victims to an assassin that we consent to die if we ourselves turn assassins. In this treaty, so far from disposing of our own lives, we think only of securing them, and it is not to be assumed that any of the parties then expects to get hanged.

          Again, every criminal, by attacking social rights, becomes on forfeit a rebel and a traitor to his country. By violating its laws he ceases to be a member of it; he even makes war upon it. In such a case the preservation of the State is inconsistent with his own, and one or the other must die. In putting the guilty to death, we slay not so much the citizen as an enemy. The trial and the judgment are the proofs that he has broken the social treaty, and is in consequence no longer a member of the State. Since, then, he has recognized himself to be such by living there, he must be removed by exile as a violator of the contract, or by death as a public enemy; for such an enemy is not a moral person, but merely a man; and in such a case the right of war is to kill the defeated. . . .

Civil Religion (4.8)

At first men had no kings except the gods, and no government except theocracy. They reasoned like Caligula, and, at that period, reasoned correctly. It takes a long time for feeling to change so that men can make up their minds to take their equals as masters, in the hope that they will profit by doing so. . . .

          Religion, considered in relation to society, which is either general or particular, may also be divided into two kinds: the religion of man, and that of the citizen. The first, has neither temples, nor altars, nor rites, and is confined to the purely internal cult of the supreme God and the eternal obligations of morality; it is the religion of the Gospel pure and simple, the true theism, what may be called natural divine right or law. The other, which is codified in a single country, gives it its gods and its own tutelary patrons. It has its dogmas, its rites, and its external cult prescribed by law. Outside the single nation that follows it, all the world is in its sight infidel, foreign and barbarous; the duties and rights of man extend for it only as far as its own altars. Of this kind were all the religions of early peoples, which we may define as civil or positive divine right or law.

          There is a third sort of religion of a more singular kind, which gives men two codes of legislation, two rulers, and two countries, makes them subject to contradictory duties, and makes it impossible for them to be faithful both to religion and to citizenship. Such are the religions of the Lamas and of the Japanese, and such is Roman Christianity, which may be called the religion of the priest. It leads to a sort of mixed and anti-social code which has no name.

          In their political aspect, all these three kinds of religion have their defects. The third is so clearly bad, that it is a waste of time to stop to prove it such. All that destroys social unity is worthless; all institutions that set man in contradiction to himself are worthless. . . .

          There remains therefore the religion of man or Christianity—not the Christianity of today, but that of the Gospel, which is entirely different. By means of this holy, sublime and real religion, all men, being children of one God, recognize one another as brothers, and the society that unites them is not dissolved even at death.

          But this religion, having no particular relation to the political body, leaves the laws in possession of the force they have in themselves without making any addition to it. It is thus one of the great bonds that unite society considered in severalty fails to operate. Indeed, even more since it is so far from binding the hearts of the citizens to the State, that it has the effect of taking them away from all earthly things. I know of nothing more contrary to the social spirit. . . .

          Christianity as a religion is entirely spiritual, occupied solely with heavenly things; the country of the Christian is not of this world. He indeed does his duty, but does it with profound indifference to the good or ill success of his cares. Provided he has nothing to reproach himself with, it matters little to him whether things go well or ill here on earth. If the State is prosperous, he hardly dares to share in the public happiness, for fear he may grow proud of his country's glory; if the State is languishing, he blesses the hand of God that is hard upon His people. . . .

          But, setting aside political considerations, let us return to what is right, and settle our principles on this important point. The right which the social contract gives the Sovereign over the subjects does not, we have seen, exceed the limits of public benefit. The subjects then owe the Sovereign an account of their opinions only to such an extent as they matter to the community. Now, it matters very much to the community that each citizen should have a religion. That will make him love his duty. But the dogmas of that religion concern the State and its members only so far as they have reference to morality and to the duties which he who professes them is bound to do to others. Each man may have, over and above, what opinions he pleases, without it being the Sovereign's business to take notice of them. For, as the Sovereign has no authority in the other world, whatever the lot of its subjects may be in the life to come, that is not its business, provided they are good citizens in this life.

          There is therefore a purely civil profession of faith of which the Sovereign should establish the articles, not exactly as religious dogmas, but as social sentiments without which a man cannot be a good citizen or a faithful subject. While it can compel no one to believe them, it can banish from the State whoever does not believe them. It can banish him, not for impiety, but as an anti-social being, incapable of truly loving the laws and justice, and of sacrificing, at need, his life to his duty. If anyone, after publicly recognizing these dogmas, behaves as if he does not believe them, let him be punished by death. For, he has committed the worst of all crimes, that of lying before the law.

          The dogmas of civil religion ought to be few, simple, and exactly worded, without explanation or commentary. The existence of a mighty, intelligent and beneficent Divinity, possessed of foresight and providence, the life to come, the happiness of the just, the punishment of the wicked, the sanctity of the social contract and the laws: these are its positive dogmas. Its negative dogmas I confine to one, intolerance, which is a part of the cults we have rejected.

          To my mind, those who distinguish civil from theological intolerance are mistaken. The two forms are inseparable. It is impossible to live at peace with those we regard as damned. To love them would be to hate God who punishes them: we positively must either reclaim or torment them. Wherever theological intolerance is admitted, it must inevitably have some civil effect; and as soon as it has such an effect, the Sovereign is no longer Sovereign even in the temporal sphere: thenceforth priests are the real masters, and kings only their ministers.

          Now that there is and can be no longer an exclusive national religion, tolerance should be given to all religions that tolerate others, so long as their dogmas contain nothing contrary to the duties of citizenship. But whoever dares to say: there is no salvation outside the Church, ought to be driven from the State, unless the State is the Church, and the prince the pontiff. Such a dogma is good only in a theocratic government; in any other, it is fatal. The reason for which Henry IV is said to have embraced the Roman religion [i.e., "Paris is well worth a mass"] ought to make every honest man leave it, and still more any prince who knows how to reason.

EMILE (from Emile)

Educating People Naturally for Social Life

God makes all things good; man meddles with them and they become evil. He forces one soil to yield the products of another, one tree to bear another's fruit. He confuses and confounds time, place, and natural conditions. He mutilates his dog, his horse, and his slave. He destroys and defaces all things; he loves all that is deformed and monstrous; he will have nothing as nature made it, not even man himself, who must learn his paces like a saddle-horse, and be shaped to his master's taste like the trees in his garden. Yet things would be worse without this education, and mankind cannot be made by halves. Under existing conditions a man left to himself from birth would be more of a monster than the rest. Prejudice, authority, necessity, example, all the social conditions into which we are plunged, would stifle nature in him and put nothing in her place. She would be like a sapling chance sown in the midst of the highway, bent hither and thither and soon crushed by the passers-by. . . .

          We are born weak, we need strength; helpless, we need aid; foolish, we need reason. All that we lack at birth, all that we need when we come to man's estate, is the gift of education.

          This education comes to us from nature, from men, or from things. The inner growth of our organs and faculties is the education of nature, the use we learn to make of this growth is the education of men, what we gain by our experience of our surroundings is the education of things.

          Thus we are each taught by three masters. If their teaching conflicts, the scholar is ill-educated and will never be at peace with himself; if their teaching agrees, he goes straight to his goal, he lives at peace with himself, he is well-educated.

          Now of these three factors in education, nature is wholly beyond our control, things are only partly in our power; the education of men is the only one controlled by us; and even here our power is largely illusory, for who can hope to direct every word and deed of all with whom the child has to do. . . .

          Viewed as an art, the success of education is almost impossible, since the essential conditions of success are beyond our control. Our efforts may bring us within sight of the goal, but fortune must favour us if we are to reach it.

          What is this goal? As we have just shown, it is the goal of nature. Since all three modes of education must work together, the two that we can control must follow the lead of that which is beyond our control.

          In the social order where each has his own place a man must be educated for it. If such a one leave his own station he is fit for nothing else. His education is only useful when fate agrees with his parents' choice; if not, education harms the scholar, if only by the prejudices it has created. In Egypt, where the son was compelled to adopt his father's calling, education had at least a settled aim; where social grades remain fixed, but the men who form them are constantly changing, no one knows whether he is not harming his son by educating him for his own class.

Natural Religion better than Revelation

In my exposition you find nothing but natural religion; strange that we should need more! How shall I become aware of this need? What guilt can be mine so long as I serve God according to the knowledge he has given to my mind, and the feelings he has put into my heart? What purity of morals, what dogma useful to man and worthy of its author, can I derive from a positive doctrine which cannot be derived without the aid of this doctrine by the right use of my faculties? Show me what you can add to the duties of the natural law, for the glory of God, for the good of mankind, and for my own welfare; and what virtue you will get from the new form of religion which does not result from mine. The grandest ideas of the Divine nature come to us from reason only. Behold the spectacle of nature; listen to the inner voice. Has not God spoken it all to our eyes, to our conscience, to our reason? What more can man tell us? Their revelations do but degrade God, by investing him with passions like our own. Far from throwing light upon the ideas of the Supreme Being, special doctrines seem to me to confuse these ideas; far from ennobling them, they degrade them; to the inconceivable mysteries which surround the Almighty, they add absurd contradictions, they make man proud, intolerant, and cruel; instead of bringing peace upon earth, they bring fire and sword. I ask myself what is the use of it all, and I find no answer. I see nothing but the crimes of men and the misery of mankind. . . .

          Considering the point I had now reached as the common center from which all believers set out on the quest for a more enlightened form of religion, I merely found in natural religion the elements of all religion. I beheld the multitude of diverse sects which hold sway upon earth, each of which accuses the other of falsehood and error; which of these, I asked, is the right?

          I can never believe that every man is obliged to know what is contained in books, and that he who is out of reach of these books, and of those who understand them, will be punished for an ignorance which is no fault of his. Books upon books! What madness! As all Europe is full of books, Europeans regard them as necessary, forgetting that they are unknown throughout three-quarters of the globe. Were not all these books written by men? Why then should a man need them to teach him his duty, and how did he learn his duty before these books were in existence? Either he must have learnt his duties for himself, or his ignorance must have been excused.

Female Education: Using Female Charm to Leverage Men's Superior Strength

In the union of the sexes each alike contributes to the common end, but in different ways. From this diversity springs the first difference which may be observed between man and woman in their moral relations. The man should be strong and active; the woman should be weak and passive; the one must have both the power and the will; it is enough that the other should offer little resistance.

          When this principle is admitted, it follows that woman is specially made for man's delight. If man in his turn ought to be pleasing in her eyes, the necessity is less urgent, his virtue is in his strength, he pleases because he is strong. I grant you this is not the law of love, but it is the law of nature, which is older than love itself.

          If woman is made to please and to be in subjection to man, she ought to make herself pleasing in his eyes and not provoke him to anger; her strength is in her charms, by their means she should compel him to discover and use his strength. The surest way of arousing this strength is to make it necessary by resistance. Thus pride comes to the help of desire and each exults in the other's victory. This is the origin of attack and defense, of the boldness of one sex and the timidity of the other, and even of the shame and modesty with which nature has armed the weak for the conquest of the strong. . . .

          Is it weakness which yields to force, or is it voluntary self-surrender? This uncertainty constitutes the chief charm of the man's victory, and the woman is usually cunning enough to leave him in doubt. In this respect the woman's mind exactly resembles her body; far from being ashamed of her weakness, she is proud of it; her soft muscles offer no resistance, she professes that she cannot lift the lightest weight; she would be ashamed to be strong. And why? Not only to gain an appearance of refinement; she is too clever for that; she is providing herself beforehand with excuses, with the right to be weak if she chooses. . . .

          [W]omen are always exclaiming that we educate them for nothing but vanity and coquetry, that we keep them amused with trifles that we may be their masters; we are responsible, so they say, for the faults we attribute to them. How silly! What have men to do with the education of girls? What is there to hinder their mothers educating them as they please? . . .

          A woman's education must therefore be planned in relation to man. To be pleasing in his sight, to win his respect and love, to train him in childhood, to tend him in manhood, to counsel and console, to make his life pleasant and happy, these are the duties of woman for all time, and this is what she should be taught while she is young. The further we depart from this principle, the further we shall be from our goal, and all our precepts will fail to secure her happiness or our own. . . .

          This habitual restraint produces a docility which woman requires all her life long, for she will always be in subjection to a man, or to man's judgment, and she will never be free to set her own opinion above his. What is most wanted in a woman is gentleness; formed to obey a creature so imperfect as man, a creature often vicious and always faulty, she should early learn to submit to injustice and to suffer the wrongs inflicted on her by her husband without complaint; she must be gentle for her own sake, not his. Bitterness and obstinacy only multiply the sufferings of the wife and the misdeeds of the husband; the man feels that these are not the weapons to be used against him. Heaven did not make women attractive and persuasive that they might degenerate into bitterness, or meek that they should desire the mastery; their soft voice was not meant for hard words, nor their delicate features for the frowns of anger. When they lose their temper they forget themselves; often enough they have just cause of complaint; but when they scold they always put themselves in the wrong. We should each adopt the tone which befits our sex; a soft-hearted husband may make an overbearing wife, but a man, unless he is a perfect monster, will sooner or later yield to his wife's gentleness, and the victory will be hers.

Source: Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Discourse on Inequality (1755) and The Social Contract (1762), tr. George Cole; Emile (1762), tr. Barbara Foxley.

STUDY QUESTIONS

Please answer all of the following questions.

[Hume]

1. According to Hume, what was the original contract in savage times, the modern conception of it, and Hume's criticism of both?

2. According to Hume in the section on "societies founded by conquest" Hume describes how governments are actually established. What is his explanation?

3. What are Hume's arguments against governments being founded on elections and the consent of the governed?

4. Hume argues that allegiance is an artificial duty based on the necessity of society. Explain his argument.

5. Hume presents several examples to show that the sense of justice regarding property arises from usefulness. What are his examples?

6. Hume presents four or so arguments to show that justice regarding property does not arise from a natural instinct. What are his arguments?

[Montesquieu]

7. According to Montesquieu in the section on "advantages of small republics", what are the optimal sizes of republics, monarchies, and despotic governments, and why?

8. According to Montesquieu in the section on "protection through a confederate republic," what are the two disadvantages of republics, and how does a confederacy solve the problem?

9. According to Montesquieu in the section on "political liberty", what are the two kinds of liberty and the different meanings of the word liberty"

10. According to Montesquieu in the section on "liberty is confined by the laws," why isn't political liberty the same thing as unlimited freedom?

11. According to Montesquieu in the section on "Separation of powers to preserve liberty," what are the three branches of government and their functions?

12. According to Montesquieu in the section on "Three sources of slavery among Roman Citizens," what are the three sources and what are Montesquieu's criticisms of each?

13. Explain Montesquieu's view of the origins of slavery and the absurd arguments for it.

[Rousseau]

14. According to Rousseau's Discourse, what was life like in the state of nature?

15. According to Rousseau's Discourse, what were some of the negative consequences of the creation of private property?

16. According to Rousseau's Social Contract, what were the first societies like and the function of the social contract?

17. According to Rousseau's Social Contract, explain the difference between the "general will" and the "will of all".

18. According to Rousseau's Social Contract, what is his reasoning for supporting the death penalty for rebels and traitors?

19. According to Rousseau's Social Contract, what are the three types of religion and the dogmas of civil religion?

20. According to Rousseau's Emile, what are the main features of natural religion, and the main features of educating women?

21. Short essay: please select one of the following and answer it in a minimum of 100 words.

          [Hume]

          a. According to Hume in the section on "the modern conception of an original contract," although not mentioning Locke by name, Hume presents Locke's view of the social contract and the justification for revolution. What his Hume's critique of Locke's position, and how might Locke respond?

          b. In the section on "obedience through fear, necessity, and acquiescence" Hume describes the normal reaction that citizens have to new governments. Give Hume's account of this and discuss whether you agree.

          c. In the Crito, Plato argued that by choosing to stay in a country one tacitly agrees to follow the government. In the section on "no tacit consent because no real choice" Hume argues against this view. Present his argument and discuss how Plato might respond.

          d. In the section "justice does not arise from instinct" Hume argues against a natural instinct of property ownership. Discuss his main arguments and say whether you agree.

          [Montesquieu]

          e. Explain Montesquieu's small republic thesis as presented in the section on "advantages of small republics" and discuss whether you agree.

          f. Explain Montesquieu's view of protection through confederate governments and discuss whether you agree.

          g. Criticize Montesquieu's arguments regarding the balanced separation of powers and three branches of government.

          h. Are any of Montesquieu's arguments against slavery weak? Pick one and critique it.

          i. Montesquieu was a witty writer as exemplified in his satirical critiques of absurd justifications of slavery. That is, he ironically presents them as good arguments, letting their self-evident absurdity undermine themselves. Describe some of the more absurd justifications, and explain why they are absurd.

          [Rousseau]

          j. In a letter to Rousseau, Voltaire wrote the following concerning the Discourse on Inequality: "I cannot embark to go and live with the savages of Canada, in the first place because the illnesses with which I am afflicted require the attention of a European physician" (August 30, 1755). Voltaire is making a joke, but there is an underlying critique. What is Voltaire's point, and how might Rousseau respond?

          k. Rousseau opens Part 2 of his Discourse on Inequality with the famous statement "The first man who, having enclosed a piece of ground, thought himself of saying This is mine, and found people simple enough to believe him, was the real founder of civil society." Explain his point and discuss whether he is right.

          l. During the French Revolution's "Reign of Terror" Maximilien de Robespierre infamously stated "I am the people!" Is there anything in Rousseau's conception of the general will that would lend itself to genocidal tyranny such as occurred in the Reign of Terror?

          m. Rousseau begins the Social Contract with the famous statement "Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks himself the master of others, and still remains a greater slave than they." Explain his point and discuss whether you agree.

          n. Is Rousseau's conception of civil religion and its dogmas a good thing or a bad thing? Explain.