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THE
ENGLISH WORKS
OF
THOMAS HOBBES.
LONDON:
C RICHARDS, PRINTER, ST. MARTIN’S LANE.
THE
ENGLISH WORKS
OF
THOMAS HOBBES
OF MALMESBURY;
NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND EDITED
BY
SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART.
---
VOL. II.
---
LONDON:
JOHN BOHN,
HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
---
MDCCCXLI.
PHILOSOPHICAL RUDIMENTS
CONCERNING
GOVERNMENT AND SOCIETY.
BY
THOMAS HOBBES
OF MALMESBURY.
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
WILLIAM EARL OF DEVONSHIRE,
MY MOST HONOURED LORD.
---
MAY IT PLEASE YOUR LORDSHIP,
It was the speech of the Roman people, to whom the name of _king_ had
been rendered odious, as well by the tyranny of the Tarquins as by the
genius and decretals of that city; it was the speech, I say, of the
public, however pronounced from a private mouth, (if yet Cato the censor
were no more than such): _that all kings are to be reckoned amongst
ravenous beasts_. But what a beast of prey was the Roman people; whilst
with its conquering eagles it erected its proud trophies so far and wide
over the world, bringing the Africans, the Asiatics, the Macedonians,
and the Achæans, with many other despoiled nations, into a specious
bondage, with the pretence of preferring them to be denizens of Rome! So
that if Cato’s saying were a wise one, it was every whit as wise, that
of Pontius Telesinus; who flying about with open mouth through all the
companies of his army in that famous encounter which he had with Sylla,
cried out: that _Rome herself as well as Sylla, was to be razed; for
that there would always be wolves and depredators of their liberty,
unless the forest that lodged them were grubbed up by the roots_. To
speak impartially, both sayings are very true: that _man to man is a
kind of God_; and that _man to man is an arrant wolf_. The first is
true, if we compare citizens amongst themselves; and the second, if we
compare cities. In the one, there is some analogy of similitude with the
Deity; to wit, justice and charity, the twin sisters of peace. But in
the other, good men must defend themselves by taking to them for a
sanctuary the two daughters of war, deceit and violence: that is, in
plain terms, a mere brutal rapacity. Which although men object to one
another as a reproach, by an inbred custom which they have of beholding
their own actions in the persons of other men, wherein, as in a mirror,
all things on the left side appear to be on the right, and all things on
the right side to be as plainly on the left; yet the natural right of
preservation, which we all receive from the uncontrolable dictates of
necessity, will not admit it to be a vice, though it confess it to be an
unhappiness. Now that with Cato himself, a person of so great a renown
for wisdom, animosity should so prevail instead of judgment, and
partiality instead of reason, that the very same thing which he thought
just in his popular state, he should censure as unjust in a monarchical;
other men perhaps may have leisure to admire. But I have been long since
of this opinion; that there was never yet any more than vulgar prudence,
that had the luck of being acceptable to the giddy people; but either it
hath not been understood, or else having been so hath been levelled and
cried down. The more eminent actions and apothegms, both of the Greeks
and Romans, have been indebted for their eulogies not so much to the
_reason_, as to the _greatness_ of them; and very many times to that
prosperous usurpation, (with which our histories do so mutually upbraid
each other), which as a conquering torrent carries all before it, as
well public agents as public actions, in the stream of time. Wisdom,
properly so called, is nothing else but this: _the perfect knowledge of
the truth in all matters whatsoever_. Which being derived from the
registers and records of _things_; and that as it were through the
conduit of certain definite appellations; cannot possibly be the work of
a sudden acuteness, but of a well-balanced reason; which by the
compendium of a word, we call _philosophy_. For by this it is that a way
is opened to us, in which we travel from the contemplation of particular
things to the inference or result of universal actions. Now look, how
many sorts of things there are, which properly fall within the
cognizance of human reason; into so many branches does the tree of
philosophy divide itself. And from the diversity of the matter about
which they are conversant, there hath been given to those branches a
diversity of names too. For treating of figures, it is called
_geometry_; of motion, _physic_; of natural right, _morals_; put
altogether, and they make up _philosophy_. Just as the British, the
Atlantic, and the Indian seas, being diversely christened from the
diversity of their shores, do notwithstanding all together make up _the
ocean_. And truly the geometricians have very admirably performed their
part. For whatsoever assistance doth accrue to the life of man, whether
from the observation of the heavens or from the description of the
earth, from the notation of times, or from the remotest experiments of
navigation; finally, whatsoever things they are in which this present
age doth differ from the rude simpleness of antiquity, we must
acknowledge to be a debt which we owe merely to geometry. If the moral
philosophers had as happily discharged their duty, I know not what could
have been added by human industry to the completion of that happiness,
which is consistent with human life. For were the nature of human
actions as distinctly known as the nature of _quantity_ in geometrical
figures, the strength of _avarice_ and _ambition_, which is sustained by
the erroneous opinions of the vulgar as touching the nature of _right_
and _wrong_, would presently faint and languish; and mankind should
enjoy such an immortal peace, that unless it were for habitation, on
supposition that the earth should grow too narrow for her inhabitants,
there would hardly be left any pretence for war. But now on the
contrary, that neither the sword nor the pen should be allowed any
cessation; that the knowledge of the law of nature should lose its
growth, not advancing a whit beyond its ancient stature; that there
should still be such siding with the several factions of philosophers,
that the very same action should be decried by some, and as much
elevated by others; that the very same man should at several times
embrace his several opinions, and esteem his own actions far otherwise
in himself than he does in others: these, I say, are so many signs, so
many manifest arguments, that what hath hitherto been written by moral
philosophers, hath not made any progress in the knowledge of the truth;
but yet hath took with the world, not so much by giving any light to the
understanding as entertainment to the affections, whilst by the
successful rhetorications of their speech they have confirmed them in
their rashly received opinions. So that this part of philosophy hath
suffered the same destiny with the _public ways_, which lie open to all
passengers to traverse up and down: or the same lot _with highways and
open streets_, some for divertisement, and some for business; so that
what with the impertinences of some and the altercations of others,
those ways have never a seed time, and therefore yield never a harvest.
The only reason of which unluckiness should seem to be this; that
amongst all the writers of that part of philosophy there is not one that
hath used an idoneous principle of tractation. For we may not, as in a
circle, begin the handling of a science from what point we please. There
is a certain clue of reason, whose beginning is in the dark; but by the
benefit of whose conduct, we are led as it were by the hand into the
clearest light. So that the principle of tractation is to be taken from
that darkness; and then the light to be carried thither for irradiating
the doubts. As often therefore as any writer doth either weakly forsake
that clue, or wilfully cut it asunder; he describes the footsteps, not
of his progress in science, but of his wanderings from it. And from this
it was, that when I applied my thoughts to the investigation of natural
_justice_, I was presently advertised from the very word justice, (which
signifies a steady will of giving every one his _own_), that my first
enquiry was to be, from whence it proceeded that any man should call
anything rather his _own_, than _another man’s_. And when I found that
this proceeded not from nature, but consent; (for what nature at first
laid forth in common, men did afterwards distribute into several
_impropriations_); I was conducted from thence to another inquiry;
namely, to what end and upon what impulsives, when all was equally every
man’s in common, men did rather think it fitting that every man should
have his inclosure. And I found the reason was, that from a community of
goods there must needs arise contention, whose enjoyment should be
greatest. And from that contention all kind of calamities must
unavoidably ensue, which by the instinct of nature every man is taught
to shun. Having therefore thus arrived at two maxims of human nature;
the one arising from the _concupiscible_ part, which desires to
appropriate to itself the use of those things in which all others have a
joint interest; the other proceeding from the _rational_, which teaches
every man to fly a contra-natural dissolution, as the greatest mischief
that can arrive to nature: which principles being laid down, I seem from
them to have demonstrated by a most evident connexion, in this little
work of mine, first, the absolute necessity of leagues and contracts,
and thence the rudiments both of moral and of civil prudence. That
appendage which is added concerning the regiment of God, hath been done
with this intent; that the dictates of God Almighty in the law of
nature, might not seem repugnant to the written law, revealed to us in
his word. I have also been very wary in the whole tenour of my
discourse, not to meddle with the civil laws of any particular nation
whatsoever: that is to say, I have avoided coming ashore, which those
times have so infested both with shelves and tempests. At what expense
of time and industry I have been in this scrutiny after truth, I am not
ignorant; but to what purpose, I know not. For being partial judges of
ourselves, we lay a partial estimate upon our own productions. I
therefore offer up this book to your Lordship’s, not favour, but censure
first; as having found by many experiments, that it is not the credit of
the author, nor the newness of the work, nor yet the ornament of the
style, but only the weight of reason, which recommends any _opinion_ to
your Lordship’s favour and approbation. If it fortune to please, that is
to say, if it be sound, if it be useful, if it be not vulgar; I humbly
offer it to your Lordship, as both my glory and my protection. But if in
anything I have erred, your Lordship will yet accept it as a testimony
of my gratitude; that the means of study, which I enjoyed by your
Lordship’s goodness, I have employed to the procurement of your
Lordship’s favour. The God of heaven crown your Lordship with length of
days, in this earthly station; and in the heavenly Jerusalem with a
crown of glory.
Your Honour’s most humble,
and most devoted Servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.
-------
THE AUTHOR’S
PREFACE TO THE READER.
Reader, I promise thee here such things, which ordinarily promised
do seem to challenge the greatest attention, (whether thou regard
the dignity or profit of the matter treated, or the right method of
handling it, or the honest motive and good advice to undertake it,
or lastly the moderation of the author,) and I lay them here before
thine eyes. In this book thou shalt find briefly described the
duties of men: first, as men; then as subjects; lastly, as
Christians. Under which duties are contained, not only the elements
of the laws of nature and of nations, together with the true
original and power of justice; but also the very essence of
Christian religion itself, so far forth as the measure of this my
purpose could well bear it.
Which kind of doctrine, excepting what relates to Christian
religion, the most ancient sages did judge fittest to be delivered
to posterity, either curiously adorned with verse, or clouded with
allegories, as a most beautiful and hallowed mystery of royal
authority; lest by the disputations of private men it might be
defiled. Other philosophers in the mean time, to the advantage of
mankind, did contemplate the faces and motions of things; others,
without disadvantage, their natures and causes. But in after times,
Socrates is said to have been the first who truly loved this civil
science; although hitherto not thoroughly understood, yet glimmering
forth as through a cloud in the government of the commonweal: and
that he set so great a value on this, that utterly abandoning and
despising all other parts of philosophy, he wholly embraced this, as
judging it only worthy the labour of his mind. After him comes
Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, and other philosophers, as well Greek as
Latin. And now at length all men of all nations, not only
philosophers but even the vulgar, have and do still deal with this
as a matter of ease, exposed and prostitute to every mother-wit, and
to be attained without any great care or study. And, which makes
mainly for its dignity, those who suppose themselves to have it, or
are in such employment as they ought to have it, do so wonderfully
please themselves in its _idea_, as they easily brook the followers
of other arts to be esteemed and styled ingenuous, learned, skilful,
and what you will, except prudent: for this name, in regard of civil
knowledge, they presume to be due to themselves only. Whether
therefore the worth of arts is to be weighed by the worthiness of
the persons who entertain them, or by the number of those who have
written of them, or by the judgment of the wisest; certainly this
must carry it, which so nearly relates to princes, and others
engaged in the government of mankind; in whose adulterate species
also the most part of men do delight themselves, and in which the
most excellent wits of philosophers have been conversant. The
benefit of it, when rightly delivered, that is, when derived from
true principles by evident connection, we shall then best discern,
when we shall but well have considered the mischiefs that have
befallen mankind from its counterfeit and babbling form. For in
matters wherein we speculate for the exercise of our wits, if any
error escape us, it is without hurt; neither is there any loss, but
of time only. But in those things which every man ought to meditate
for the steerage of his life, it necessarily happens that not only
from errors, but even from ignorance itself, there arise offences,
contentions, nay, even slaughter itself. Look now, how great a
prejudice these are; such and so great is the benefit arising from
this doctrine of morality truly declared. How many kings, and those
good men too, hath this one error, that a tyrant king might lawfully
be put to death, been the slaughter of! How many throats hath this
false position cut, that a prince for some causes may by some
certain men be deposed! And what bloodshed hath not this erroneous
doctrine caused, that kings are not superiors to, but administrators
for the multitude! Lastly, how many rebellions hath this opinion
been the cause of, which teacheth that the knowledge whether the
commands of kings be just or unjust, belongs to private men; and
that before they yield obedience, they not only may, but ought to
dispute them! Besides, in the moral philosophy now commonly
received, there are many things no less dangerous than those, which
it matters not now to recite. I suppose those ancients foresaw this,
who rather chose to have the science of justice wrapped up in
fables, than openly exposed to disputations. For before such
questions began to be moved, princes did not sue for, but already
exercised the supreme power. They kept their empire entire, not by
arguments, but by punishing the wicked and protecting the good.
Likewise subjects did not measure what was just by the sayings and
judgments of private men, but by the laws of the realm; nor were
they kept in peace by disputations, but by power and authority. Yea,
they reverenced the supreme power, whether residing in one man or in
a council, as a certain visible divinity. Therefore they little
used, as in our days, to join themselves with ambitious and hellish
spirits, to the utter ruin of their state. For they could not
entertain so strange a fancy, as not to desire the preservation of
that by which they were preserved. In truth, the simplicity of those
times was not yet capable of so learned a piece of folly. Wherefore
it was peace and a golden age, which ended not before that, Saturn
being expelled, it was taught lawful to take up arms against kings.
This, I say, the ancients not only themselves saw, but in one of
their fables they seem very aptly to have signified it to us. For
they say, that when Ixion was invited by Jupiter to a banquet, he
fell in love, and began to court Juno herself. Offering to embrace
her, he clasped a cloud; from whence the Centaurs proceeded, by
nature half men, half horses, a fierce, a fighting, and unquiet
generation. Which changing the names only, is as much as if they
should have said, that private men being called to councils of
state, desired to prostitute justice, the only sister and wife of
the supreme, to their own judgments and apprehensions; but embracing
a false and empty shadow instead of it, they have begotten those
hermaphrodite opinions of moral philosophers, partly right and
comely, partly brutal and wild; the causes of all contentions and
bloodsheds. Since therefore such opinions are daily seen to arise,
if any man now shall dispel those clouds, and by most firm reasons
demonstrate that there are no authentical doctrines concerning right
and wrong, good and evil, besides the constituted laws in each realm
and government; and that the question whether any future action will
prove just or unjust, good or ill, is to be demanded of none but
those to whom the supreme hath committed the interpretation of his
laws: surely he will not only show us the highway to peace, but will
also teach us how to avoid the close, dark, and dangerous by-paths
of faction and sedition; than which I know not what can be thought
more profitable.
Concerning my method, I thought it not sufficient to use a plain and
evident style in what I have to deliver, except I took my beginning
from the very matter of civil government, and thence proceeded to
its generation and form, and the first beginning of justice. For
everything is best understood by its constitutive causes. For as in
a watch, or some such small engine, the matter, figure, and motion
of the wheels cannot well be known, except it be taken insunder and
viewed in parts; so to make a more curious search into the rights of
states and duties of subjects, it is necessary, I say, not to take
them insunder, but yet that they be so considered as if they were
dissolved; that is, that we rightly understand what the quality of
human nature is, in what matters it is, in what not, fit to make up
a civil government, and how men must be agreed amongst themselves
that intend to grow up into a well-grounded state. Having therefore
followed this kind of method, in the first place I set down for a
principle, by experience known to all men and denied by none, to
wit, that the dispositions of men are naturally such, that except
they be restrained through fear of some coercive power, every man
will distrust and dread each other; and as by natural right he may,
so by necessity he will be forced to make use of the strength he
hath, toward the preservation of himself. You will object perhaps,
that there are some who deny this. Truly so it happens, that very
many do deny it. But shall I therefore seem to fight against myself,
because I affirm that the same men confess and deny the same thing?
In truth I do not; but they do, whose actions disavow what their
discourses approve of. We see all countries, though they be at peace
with their neighbours, yet guarding their frontiers with armed men,
their towns with walls and ports, and keeping constant watches. To
what purpose is all this, if there be no fear of the neighbouring
power? We see even in well-governed states, where there are laws and
punishments appointed for offenders, yet particular men travel not
without their sword by their sides for their defences; neither sleep
they without shutting not only their doors against their fellow
subjects, but also their trunks and coffers for fear of domestics.
Can men give a clearer testimony of the distrust they have each of
other, and all of all? Now, since they do thus, and even countries
as well as men, they publicly profess their mutual fear and
diffidence. But in disputing they deny it; that is as much as to
say, that out of a desire they have to contradict others, they
gainsay themselves. Some object that this principle being admitted,
it would needs follow, not only that all men were wicked, (which
perhaps though it seem hard, yet we must yield to, since it is so
clearly declared by holy writ), but also wicked by nature, which
cannot be granted without impiety. But this, that men are evil by
nature, follows not from this principle. For though the wicked were
fewer than the righteous, yet because we cannot distinguish them,
there is a necessity of suspecting, heeding, anticipating,
subjugating, self-defending, ever incident to the most honest and
fairest conditioned. Much less does it follow, that those who are
wicked, are so by nature. For though from nature, that is, from
their first birth, as they are merely sensible creatures, they have
this disposition, that immediately as much as in them lies they
desire and do whatsoever is best pleasing to them, and that either
through fear they fly from, or through hardness repel those dangers
which approach them; yet are they not for this reason to be
accounted wicked. For the affections of the mind, which arise only
from the lower parts of the soul, are not wicked themselves; but the
actions thence proceeding may be so sometimes, as when they are
either offensive or against duty. Unless you give children all they
ask for, they are peevish and cry, aye, and strike their parents
sometimes; and all this they have from nature. Yet are they free
from guilt, neither may we properly call them wicked; first, because
they cannot hurt; next, because wanting the free use of reason they
are exempted from all duty. These when they come to riper years,
having acquired power whereby they may do hurt, if they shall
continue to do the same things, then truly they both begin to be,
and are properly accounted wicked. Insomuch as a wicked man is
almost the same thing with a child grown strong and sturdy, or a man
of a childish disposition; and malice the same with a defect of
reason in that age when nature ought to be better governed through
good education and experience. Unless therefore we will say that men
are naturally evil, because they receive not their education and use
of reason from nature, we must needs acknowledge that men may derive
desire, fear, anger, and other passions from nature, and yet not
impute the evil effects of those unto nature. The foundation
therefore which I have laid, standing firm, I demonstrate, in the
first place, that the state of men without civil society, which
state we may properly call the state of nature, is nothing else but
a mere war of all against all; and in that war all men have equal
right unto all things. Next, that all men as soon as they arrive to
understanding of this hateful condition, do desire, even nature
itself compelling them, to be freed from this misery. But that this
cannot be done, except by compact, they all quit that right they
have to all things. Furthermore, I declare and confirm what the
nature of compact is; how and by what means the right of one might
be transferred unto another to make their compacts valid; also what
rights, and to whom they must necessarily be granted, for the
establishing of peace; I mean, what those dictates of reason are,
which may properly be termed the laws of nature. And all these are
contained in that part of this book which I entitle _Liberty_.
These grounds thus laid, I show further what civil government, and
the supreme power in it, and the divers kinds of it are; by what
means it becomes so; and what rights particular men, who intend to
constitute this civil government, must so necessarily transfer from
themselves on the supreme power, whether it be one man or an
assembly of men, that, except they do so, it will evidently appear
to be no civil government, but the rights which all men have to all
things, that is, the rights of war will still remain. Next I
distinguish the divers kinds of it, to wit, monarchy, aristocracy,
democracy; and paternal dominion, and that of masters over their
servants. I declare how they are constituted, and I compare their
several conveniences and inconveniences, each with other.
Furthermore, I unfold what those things are which destroy it, and
what his or their duty is, who rule in chief. Last of all, I
explicate the natures of law and of sin; and I distinguish law from
counsel, from compact, from that which I call right. All which I
comprehend under the title of _Dominion_.
In the last part of it, which is entitled _Religion_, lest that
right, which by strong reason, in the preceding discourse, I had
confirmed the sovereign powers to have over their subjects, might
seem to be repugnant to the sacred Scriptures; I show, in the first
place, how it repugns not the divine right, for as much as God
overrules all rulers by nature, that is, by the dictates of natural
reason. In the second, forasmuch as God himself had a peculiar
dominion over the Jews, by virtue of that ancient covenant of
circumcision. In the third, because God doth now rule over us
Christians, by virtue of our covenant of baptism. And therefore the
authority of rulers in chief, or of civil government, is not at all,
we see, contrary to religion.
In the last place, I declare what duties are necessarily required
from us, to enter into the _kingdom of heaven_. And of those I
plainly demonstrate, and conclude out of evident testimonies of holy
writ according to the interpretation made by all, that the
obedience, which I have affirmed to be due from particular Christian
subjects unto their Christian princes, cannot possibly in the least
sort be repugnant unto Christian religion.
You have seen my method: receive now the reason which moved me to
write this. I was studying philosophy for my mind sake, and I had
gathered together its first elements in all kinds; and having
digested them into three sections by degrees, I thought to have
written them, so as in the first I would have treated of _body_ and
its general properties; in the second of _man_ and his special
faculties and affections; in the third, of _civil government_ and
the duties of subjects. Wherefore the first section would have
contained _the first philosophy_, and certain elements of physic; in
it we would have considered the reasons of _time_, _place_, _cause_,
_power_, _relation_, _proportion_, _quantity_, _figure_, and
_motion_. In the second, we would have been conversant about
_imagination_, _memory_, _intellect_, _ratiocination_, _appetite_,
_will_, _good_ and _evil_, _honest_ and _dishonest_, and the like.
What this last section handles, I have now already showed you.
Whilst I contrive, order, pensively and slowly compose these
matters; (for I only do reason, I dispute not); it so happened in
the interim, that my country, some few years before the civil wars
did rage, was boiling hot with questions concerning the rights of
dominion and the obedience due from subjects, the true forerunners
of an approaching war; and was the cause which, all those other
matters deferred, ripened and plucked from me this third part.
Therefore it happens, that what was last in order, is yet come forth
first in time. And the rather, because I saw that, grounded on its
own principles sufficiently known by experience, it would not stand
in need of the former sections. Yet I have not made it out of a
desire of praise: although if I had, I might have defended myself
with this fair excuse, that very few do things laudably, who are not
affected with commendation: but for your sakes, readers, who I
persuaded myself, when you should rightly apprehend and thoroughly
understand this doctrine I here present you with, would rather
choose to brook with patience some inconveniences under government,
(because human affairs cannot possibly be without some), than
self-opiniatedly disturb the quiet of the public; that, weighing the
justice of those things you are about, not by the persuasion and
advice of private men, but by the laws of the realm, you will no
longer suffer ambitious men through the streams of your blood to
wade to their own power; that you will esteem it better to enjoy
yourselves in the present state, though perhaps not the best, than
by waging war endeavour to procure a reformation for other men in
another age, yourselves in the meanwhile either killed or consumed
with age. Furthermore, for those who will not acknowledge themselves
subject to the civil magistrate, and will be exempt from all public
burthens, and yet will live under his jurisdiction, and look for
protection from the violence and injuries of others, that you would
not look on them as fellow-subjects, but esteem them for enemies and
spies; and that ye rashly admit not for God’s word all which, either
openly or privately, they shall pretend to be so. I say more
plainly, if any preacher, confessor, or casuist, shall but say that
this doctrine is agreeable with God’s word, namely, that the chief
ruler, nay, any private man may lawfully be put to death without the
chief’s command, or that subjects may resist, conspire, or covenant
against the supreme power; that ye by no means believe them, but
instantly declare their names. He who approves of these reasons,
will also like my intentions in writing this book.
Last of all, I have propounded to myself this rule through this
whole discourse. First, not to define aught which concerns the
justice of single actions, but leave them to be determined by the
laws. Next, not to dispute the laws of any government in special,
that is, not to point which are the laws of any country, but to
declare what the laws of all countries are. Thirdly, not to seem of
opinion, that there is a less proportion of obedience due to an
_aristocracy_ or _democracy_ than a _monarchy_. For though I have
endeavoured, by arguments in my tenth chapter, to gain a belief in
men, that monarchy is the most commodious government; which one
thing alone I confess in this whole book not to be demonstrated, but
only probably stated; yet every where I expressly say, that in all
kind of government whatsoever there ought to be a supreme and equal
power. Fourthly, not in anywise to dispute the positions of divines,
except those which strip subjects of their obedience, and shake the
foundations of civil government. Lastly, lest I might imprudently
set forth somewhat of which there would be no need, what I had thus
written I would not presently expose to the public. Wherefore I got
some few copies privately dispersed among some of my friends; that
discrying the opinions of others, if any things appeared erroneous,
hard, or obscure, I might correct, soften and explain them.
These things I found most bitterly excepted against. That I had
made the civil powers too large; but this by ecclesiastical
persons. That I had utterly taken away liberty of conscience; but
this by sectaries. That I had set princes above the civil laws;
but this by lawyers. Wherefore I was not much moved by these men’s
reprehensions, as who in doing this, did but do their own
business; except it were to tie those knots somewhat faster.
But for their sakes who have a little been staggered at the
principles themselves, to wit, the nature of men, the authority or
right of nature, the nature of compacts and contracts, and the
original of civil government; because in finding fault they have not
so much followed their passions, as their common-sense, I have
therefore in some places added some annotations, whereby I presumed
I might give some satisfaction to their differing thoughts. Lastly,
I have endeavoured to offend none, beside those whose principles
these contradict, and whose tender minds are lightly offended by
every difference of opinions.
Wherefore, if ye shall meet with some things which have more of
sharpness, and less of certainty than they ought to have, since they
are not so much spoken for the maintenance of parties as the
establishment of peace, and by one whose just grief for the present
calamities of his country may very charitably be allowed some
liberty; it is his only request to ye, Readers, ye will deign to
receive them with an equal mind.
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THE INDEX.
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OF LIBERTY.
CHAP. PAGE
1. Of the state of men without civil society 1
2. Of the law of nature concerning contracts 14
3. Of the other laws of nature 29
4. That the law of nature is a divine law 59
OF DOMINION.
5. Of the causes and first original of civil 63
government
6. Of the right, whether we consider it in an 71
assembly or in one person, which he hath who is
endued with supreme authority
7. Of the three kinds of government, Democracy, 92
Aristocracy, and Monarchy
8. Of the right which lords and masters have over 108
their servants
9. Of the right which parents have over their 114
children, and of a kingdom paternal
10. A comparison of the three kinds of government, 126
each with other, according to the inconveniences
of each one
11. The places and examples of Scripture concerning 143
the right of government, which make for proof of
the foresaid doctrines
12. Of the inward causes which dissolve all civil 149
government
13. Of the duties of those men who sit at the helm of 165
state
14. Of laws and sins 182
OF RELIGION.
15. Of God’s government by nature 201
16. Of his government by the old covenant 226
17. Of his government by the new covenant 250
18. Of those things which are necessary for our 298
entrance into the kingdom of heaven
PHILOSOPHICAL ELEMENTS
OF
A TRUE CITIZEN.
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LIBERTY.
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CHAPTER I.
OF THE STATE OF MEN WITHOUT CIVIL SOCIETY.
1. The Introduction. 2. That the beginning of civil society is from
mutual fear. 3. That men by nature are all equal. 4. Whence the
will of mischieving each other ariseth. 5. The discord arising
from comparison of wits. 6. From the appetite many have to the
same thing. 7. The definition of _right_. 8. A right to the end,
gives a right to the means necessary to that end. 9. By the
right of nature, every man is judge of the means which tend to
his own preservation. 10. By nature all men have equal right to
all things. 11. This right which all men have to all things, is
unprofitable. 12. The state of men without civil society, is a
mere state of war: the definitions of _peace_ and _war_. 13. War
is an adversary to man’s preservation. 14. It is lawful for any
man, by natural right, to compel another whom he hath gotten in
his power, to give caution of his future obedience. 15. Nature
dictates the seeking after peace.
[Sidenote: Introduction.]
The faculties of human nature may be reduced unto four kinds; bodily
strength, experience, reason, passion. Taking the beginning of this
following doctrine from these, we will declare, in the first place,
what manner of inclinations men who are endued with these faculties
bear towards each other, and whether, and by what faculty they are
born apt for society, and to preserve themselves against mutual
violence; then proceeding, we will shew what advice was necessary to
be taken for this business, and what are the conditions of society,
or of human peace; that is to say, (changing the words only), what
are the fundamental _laws of nature_.
[Sidenote: That the beginning of mutual society is from fear.]
2. The greatest part of those men who have written aught concerning
commonwealths, either suppose, or require us or beg of us to
believe, that man is a creature born fit[1] for society. The Greeks
call him πολιτικον; and on this foundation they so build up the
doctrine of civil society, as if for the preservation of peace, and
the government of mankind, there were nothing else necessary than
that men should agree to make certain covenants and conditions
together, which themselves should then call laws. Which axiom,
though received by most, is yet certainly false; and an error
proceeding from our too slight contemplation of human nature. For
they who shall more narrowly look into the causes for which men come
together, and delight in each other’s company, shall easily find
that this happens not because naturally it could happen no
otherwise, but by accident. For if by nature one man should love
another, that is, as man, there could no reason be returned why
every man should not equally love every man, as being equally man;
or why he should rather frequent those, whose society affords him
honour or profit. We do not therefore by nature seek society for its
own sake, but that we may receive some honour or profit from it;
these we desire primarily, that secondarily. How, by what advice,
men do meet, will be best known by observing those things which they
do when they are met. For if they meet for traffic, it is plain
every man regards not his fellow, but his business; if to discharge
some office, a certain market-friendship is begotten, which hath
more of jealousy in it than true love, and whence factions sometimes
may arise, but good will never; if for pleasure and recreation of
mind, every man is wont to please himself most with those things
which stir up laughter, whence he may, according to the nature of
that which is ridiculous, by comparison of another man’s defects and
infirmities, pass the more current in his own opinion. And although
this be sometimes innocent and without offence, yet it is manifest
they are not so much delighted with the society, as their own vain
glory. But for the most part, in these kinds of meeting we wound the
absent; their whole life, sayings, actions are examined, judged,
condemned. Nay, it is very rare but some present receive a fling as
soon as they part; so as his reason was not ill, who was wont always
at parting to go out last. And these are indeed the true delights of
society, unto which we are carried by nature, that is, by those
passions which are incident to all creatures, until either by sad
experience or good precepts it so fall out, which in many it never
happens, that the appetite of present matters be dulled with the
memory of things past: without which the discourse of most quick and
nimble men on this subject, is but cold and hungry.
Footnote 1:
_Born fit._] Since we now see actually a constituted society among
men, and none living out of it, since we discern all desirous of
congress and mutual correspondence, it may seem a wonderful kind
of stupidity, to lay in the very threshold of this doctrine such a
stumbling block before the reader, as to deny _man to be born fit
for society_. Therefore I must more plainly say, that it is true
indeed, that to man by nature, or as man, that is, as soon as he
is born, solitude is an enemy; for infants have need of others to
help them to live, and those of riper years to help them to live
well. Wherefore I deny not that men (even nature compelling)
desire to come together. But civil societies are not mere
meetings, but bonds, to the making whereof faith and compacts are
necessary; the virtue whereof to children and fools, and the
profit whereof to those who have not yet tasted the miseries which
accompany its defects, is altogether unknown; whence it happens,
that those, because they know not what society is, cannot enter
into it; these, because ignorant of the benefit it brings, care
not for it. Manifest therefore it is, that all men, because they
are born in infancy, are born unapt for society. Many also,
perhaps most men, either through defect of mind or want of
education, remain unfit during the whole course of their lives;
yet have they, infants as well as those of riper years, a human
nature. Wherefore man is made fit for society not by nature, but
by education. Furthermore, although man were born in such a
condition as to desire it, it follows not, that he therefore were
born fit to enter into it. For it is one thing to desire, another
to be in capacity fit for what we desire; for even they, who
through their pride, will not stoop to equal conditions, without
which there can be no society, do yet desire it.
But if it so happen, that being met they pass their time in relating
some stories, and one of them begins to tell one which concerns
himself; instantly every one of the rest most greedily desires to
speak of himself too; if one relate some wonder, the rest will tell
you miracles, if they have them; if not, they will feign them.
Lastly, that I may say somewhat of them who pretend to be wiser than
others: if they meet to talk of philosophy, look, how many men, so
many would be esteemed masters, or else they not only love not their
fellows, but even persecute them with hatred. So clear is it by
experience to all men who a little more narrowly consider human
affairs, that all free congress ariseth either from mutual poverty,
or from vain glory, whence the parties met endeavour to carry with
them either some benefit, or to leave behind them that same
εὐδοκιμεῖν, some esteem and honour with those, with whom they have
been conversant. The same is also collected by reason out of the
definitions themselves of _will_, _good_, _honour_, _profitable_.
For when we voluntarily contract society, in all manner of society
we look after the object of the will, that is, that which every one
of those who gather together, propounds to himself for good. Now
whatsoever seems good, is pleasant, and relates either to the
senses, or the mind. But all the mind’s pleasure is either glory,
(or to have a good opinion of one’s self), or refers to glory in the
end; the rest are sensual, or conducing to sensuality, which may be
all comprehended under the word _conveniences_. All society
therefore is either for gain, or for glory; that is, not so much for
love of our fellows, as for the love of ourselves. But no society
can be great or lasting, which begins from vain glory. Because that
glory is like honour; if all men have it no man hath it, for they
consist in comparison and precellence. Neither doth the society of
others advance any whit the cause of my glorying in myself; for
every man must account himself, such as he can make himself without
the help of others. But though the benefits of this life may be much
furthered by mutual help; since yet those may be better attained to
by dominion than by the society of others, I hope no body will
doubt, but that men would much more greedily be carried by nature,
if all fear were removed, to obtain dominion, than to gain society.
We must therefore resolve, that the original of all great and
lasting societies consisted not in the mutual good will men had
towards each other, but in the mutual fear[2] they had of each
other.
Footnote 2:
_The mutual fear._] It is objected: it is so improbable that men
should grow into civil societies out of fear, that if they had
been afraid, they would not have endured each others looks. They
presume, I believe, that to fear is nothing else than to be
affrighted. I comprehend in this word _fear_, a certain foresight
of future evil; neither do I conceive flight the sole property of
fear, but to distrust, suspect, take heed, provide so that they
may not fear, is also incident to the fearful. They who go to
sleep, shut their doors; they who travel, carry their swords with
them, because they fear thieves. Kingdoms guard their coasts and
frontiers with forts and castles; cities are compact with walls;
and all for fear of neighbouring kingdoms and towns. Even the
strongest armies, and most accomplished for fight, yet sometimes
parley for peace, as fearing each others power, and lest they
might be overcome. It is through fear that men secure themselves
by flight indeed, and in corners, if they think they cannot escape
otherwise; but for the most part, by arms and defensive weapons;
whence it happens, that daring to come forth they know each
other’s spirits. But then if they fight, civil society ariseth
from the victory; if they agree, from their agreement.
[Sidenote: That men by nature are all equal.]
3. The cause of mutual fear consists partly in the natural equality
of men, partly in their mutual will of hurting: whence it comes to
pass, that we can neither expect from others, nor promise to
ourselves the least security. For if we look on men full-grown, and
consider how brittle the frame of our human body is, which
perishing, all its strength, vigour, and wisdom itself perisheth
with it; and how easy a matter it is, even for the weakest man to
kill the strongest: there is no reason why any man, trusting to his
own strength, should conceive himself made by nature above others.
They are equals, who can do equal things one against the other; but
they who can do the greatest things, namely, kill, can do equal
things. All men therefore among themselves are by nature equal; the
inequality we now discern, hath its spring from the civil law.
[Sidenote: Whence the will of mischieving each other ariseth.]
4. All men in the state of nature have a desire and will to hurt,
but not proceeding from the same cause, neither equally to be
condemned. For one man, according to that natural equality which is
among us, permits as much to others as he assumes to himself; which
is an argument of a temperate man, and one that rightly values his
power. Another, supposing himself above others, will have a license
to do what he lists, and challenges respect and honour, as due to
him before others; which is an argument of a fiery spirit. This
man’s will to hurt ariseth from vain glory, and the false esteem he
hath of his own strength; the other’s from the necessity of
defending himself, his liberty, and his goods, against this man’s
violence.
[Sidenote: The discord arising from comparison of wits.]
5. Furthermore, since the combat of wits is the fiercest, the
greatest discords which are, must necessarily arise from this
contention. For in this case it is not only odious to contend
against, but also not to consent. For not to approve of what a man
saith, is no less than tacitly to accuse him of an error in that
thing which he speaketh: as in very many things to dissent, is as
much as if you accounted him a fool whom you dissent from. Which may
appear hence, that there are no wars so sharply waged as between
sects of the same religion, and factions of the same commonweal,
where the contestation is either concerning doctrines or politic
prudence. And since all the pleasure and jollity of the mind
consists in this, even to get some, with whom comparing, it may find
somewhat wherein to triumph and vaunt itself; it is impossible but
men must declare sometimes some mutual scorn and contempt, either by
laughter, or by words, or by gesture, or some sign or other; than
which there is no greater vexation of mind, and than from which
there cannot possibly arise a greater desire to do hurt.
[Sidenote: From the appetite many have to the same thing.]
6. But the most frequent reason why men desire to hurt each other,
ariseth hence, that many men at the same time have an appetite to
the same thing; which yet very often they can neither enjoy in
common, nor yet divide it; whence it follows that the strongest must
have it, and who is strongest must be decided by the sword.
[Sidenote: The definition of right.]
7. Among so many dangers therefore, as the natural lusts of men do
daily threaten each other withal, to have a care of one’s self is so
far from being a matter scornfully to be looked upon, that one has
neither the power nor wish to have done otherwise. For every man is
desirous of what is good for him, and shuns what is evil, but
chiefly the chiefest of natural evils, which is death; and this he
doth by a certain impulsion of nature, no less than that whereby a
stone moves downward. It is therefore neither absurd nor
reprehensible, neither against the dictates of true reason, for a
man to use all his endeavours to preserve and defend his body and
the members thereof from death and sorrows. But that which is not
contrary to right reason, that all men account to be done justly,
and with right. Neither by the word _right_ is anything else
signified, than that liberty which every man hath to make use of his
natural faculties according to right reason. Therefore the first
foundation of natural right is this, that _every man as much as in
him lies endeavour to protect his life and members_.
[Sidenote: A right to the end gives also a right to the means.]
8. But because it is in vain for a man to have a right to the end,
if the right to the necessary means be denied him, it follows, that
since every man hath a right to preserve himself, he must also be
allowed a right _to use all the means, and do all the actions,
without which he cannot preserve himself_.
[Sidenote: By the right of nature, every man is judge of the means
which tend to his preservation.]
9. Now whether the means which he is about to use, and the action he
is performing, be necessary to the preservation of his life and
members or not, he himself, by the right of nature, must be judge.
For if it be contrary to right reason that I should judge of mine
own peril, say, that another man is judge. Why now, because he
judgeth of what concerns me, by the same reason, because we are
equal by nature, will I judge also of things which do belong to him.
Therefore it agrees with right reason, that is, it is the right of
nature that I judge of his opinion, that is, whether it conduce to
my preservation or not.
[Sidenote: By right of nature, all men have equal right to all
things.]
10. Nature hath given to _every one a right to all_; that is, it was
lawful for every man, in the bare state of nature,[3] or before such
time as men had engaged themselves by any covenants or bonds, to do
what he would, and against whom he thought fit, and to possess, use,
and enjoy all what he would, or could get. Now because whatsoever a
man would, it therefore seems good to him because he wills it, and
either it really doth, or at least seems to him to contribute
towards his preservation, (but we have already allowed him to be
judge, in the foregoing article, whether it doth or not, insomuch as
we are to hold all for necessary whatsoever he shall esteem so), and
by the 7th article it appears that by the right of nature those
things may be done, and must be had, which necessarily conduce to
the protection of life and members, it follows, that in the state of
nature, to have all, and do all, is lawful for all. And this is that
which is meant by that common saying, _nature hath given all to
all_. From whence we understand likewise, that in the state of
nature profit is the measure of right.
Footnote 3:
_In the bare state of nature._ This is thus to be understood: what
any man does in the bare state of nature, is injurious to no man;
not that in such a state he cannot offend God, or break the laws
of nature; for injustice against men presupposeth human laws, such
as in the state of nature there are none. Now the truth of this
proposition thus conceived, is sufficiently demonstrated to the
mindful reader in the articles immediately foregoing; but because
in certain cases the difficulty of the conclusion makes us forget
the premises, I will contract this argument, and make it most
evident to a single view. Every man hath right to protect himself,
as appears by the seventh article. The same man therefore hath a
right to use all the means which necessarily conduce to this end,
by the eighth article. But those are the necessary means which he
shall judge to be such, by the ninth article. He therefore hath a
right to make use of, and to do all whatsoever he shall judge
requisite for his preservation; wherefore by the judgment of him
that doth it, the thing done is either right or wrong, and
therefore right. True it is therefore in the bare state of nature,
&c. But if any man pretend somewhat to tend necessarily to his
preservation, which yet he himself doth not confidently believe
so, he may offend against the laws of nature, as in the third
chapter of this book is more at large declared. It hath been
objected by some: if a son kill his father, doth he him no injury?
I have answered, that a son cannot be understood to be at any time
in the state of nature, as being under the power and command of
them to whom he owes his protection as soon as ever he is born,
namely, either his father’s or his mother’s, or him that nourished
him; as is demonstrated in the ninth chapter.
[Sidenote: The right of all to all is unprofitable.]
11. But it was the least benefit for men thus to have a common right
to all things. For the effects of this right are the same, almost,
as if there had been no right at all. For although any man might say
of every thing, _this is mine_, yet could he not enjoy it, by reason
of his neighbour, who having equal right and equal power, would
pretend the same thing to be his.
[Sidenote: The state of men without society is a state of war.]
12. If now to this natural proclivity of men, to hurt each other,
which they derive from their passions, but chiefly from a vain
esteem of themselves, you add, the right of all to all, wherewith
one by right invades, the other by right resists, and whence arise
perpetual jealousies and suspicions on all hands, and how hard a
thing it is to provide against an enemy invading us with an
intention to oppress and ruin, though he come with a small number,
and no great provision; it cannot be denied but that the natural
state of men, before they entered into society, was a mere war, and
that not simply, but a war of all men against all men. [Sidenote:
The definition of war and peace.]For what is WAR, but that same time
in which the will of contesting by force is fully declared, either
by words or deeds? The time remaining is termed PEACE.
[Sidenote: War is an adversary to man’s preservation.]
13. But it is easily judged how disagreeable a thing to the
preservation either of mankind, or of each single man, a perpetual
war is. But it is perpetual in its own nature; because in regard of
the equality of those that strive, it cannot be ended by victory.
For in this state the conqueror is subject to so much danger, as it
were to be accounted a miracle, if any, even the most strong, should
close up his life with many years and old age. They of America are
examples hereof, even in this present age: other nations have been
in former ages; which now indeed are become civil and flourishing,
but were then few, fierce, short-lived, poor, nasty, and deprived of
all that pleasure and beauty of life, which peace and society are
wont to bring with them. Whosoever therefore holds, that it had been
best to have continued in that state in which all things were lawful
for all men, he contradicts himself. For every man by natural
necessity desires that which is good for him: nor is there any that
esteems a war of all against all, which necessarily adheres to such
a state, to be good for him. And so it happens, that through fear of
each other we think it fit to rid ourselves of this condition, and
to get some fellows; that if there needs must be war, it may not yet
be against all men, nor without some helps.
[Sidenote: That by the right of nature, it is lawful for any man to
compel him whom he hath in his power, to give him caution
for his future obedience.]
14. Fellows are gotten either by constraint, or by consent; by
constraint, when after fight the conqueror makes the conquered serve
him, either through fear of death, or by laying fetters on him: by
consent, when men enter into society to help each other, both
parties consenting without any constraint. But the conqueror may by
right compel the conquered, or the strongest the weaker, (as a man
in health may one that is sick, or he that is of riper years a
child), unless he will choose to die, to give caution of his future
obedience. For since the right of protecting ourselves according to
our own wills, proceeded from our danger, and our danger from our
equality, it is more consonant to reason, and more certain for our
conservation, using the present advantage to secure ourselves by
taking caution, than when they shall be full grown and strong, and
got out of our power, to endeavour to recover that power again by
doubtful fight. And on the other side, nothing can be thought more
absurd, than by discharging whom you already have weak in your
power, to make him at once both an enemy and a strong one. From
whence we may understand likewise as a corollary in the natural
state of men, that _a sure and irresistible power confers the right
of dominion and ruling over those who cannot resist_; insomuch, as
the right of all things that can be done, adheres essentially and
immediately unto this omnipotence hence arising.
[Sidenote: Nature dictates the seeking after peace.]
15. Yet cannot men expect any lasting preservation, continuing thus
in the state of nature, that is, of war, by reason of that equality
of power, and other human faculties they are endued withal.
Wherefore to seek peace, where there is any hopes of obtaining it,
and where there is none, to enquire out for auxiliaries of war, is
the dictate of right reason, that is, the law of nature; as shall be
showed in the next chapter.
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