Of Monarchy and Hereditary Succession, 2

Second, since no man at first could possess any public honors except those conferred upon him, those who conferred them could have had no power to give away the rights of posterity. Though they might say, “We choose you as our head,” they could not, without a manifest injustice to their children, say, “Your children and your children’s children shall rule over ours forever.” Such an unwise, unjust, unnatural bargain might, at the next succession, place them under the rule of a scoundrel or a fool. Most wise people have always privately regarded hereditary right with contempt; yet it is one of those evils that, once established, cannot easily be removed. Many submit out of fear, others out of superstition, while the more powerful share with the king the spoils taken from everyone else.

This assumes that the present line of kings throughout the world had honorable beginnings. Yet it is more than likely that, if we could strip away the dark veil of antiquity and trace them to their origins, we would find that the first king was no better than the chief ruffian of some unruly gang. His savage ways or superior cunning won him the title of leader among plunderers; as his power and raids expanded, he intimidated peaceful and defenseless people into buying their safety with regular payments. Yet those who chose him could not have intended to grant hereditary rights to his descendants, since permanently excluding themselves from power would have contradicted the free and unrestrained principles by which they professed to live. Hereditary succession, then, could not have arisen in the early days of monarchy as an entitlement, but only as a matter of chance or courtesy. Since few records, if any, survived from those days, and oral history was crowded with fables, it was easy, after a few generations, to invent some conveniently timed, superstitious tale, in the manner of Mahomet, and force hereditary right down the throats of ordinary people. Perhaps the disorder that threatened, or seemed to threaten, at the death of a leader and the choosing of another—for elections among ruffians could hardly have been orderly—first led many to favor hereditary claims. Thus, as has happened since, what people first accepted for convenience was afterward demanded as a right.

England, since the conquest, has known a few good monarchs but has groaned under far more bad ones. Yet no sensible person can call their claim through William the Conqueror an honorable one. A French bastard landing with an armed band of brigands and making himself king of England against its people’s will is, plainly put, a contemptible, criminal beginning. There is certainly nothing divine about it. But there is no need to spend much time exposing the folly of hereditary right. If some are weak enough to believe in it, let them worship the ass and the lion alike; they are welcome to it. I will neither imitate their submissiveness nor disturb their devotions.

Yet I would like to ask how they imagine kings first arose. There are only three possible answers: by lot, by election, or by usurpation. If the first king was chosen by lot, that sets a precedent for the next choice, and rules out hereditary succession. Saul was chosen by lot, yet his succession was not hereditary; nor does anything in that event suggest that it was ever meant to be. If a country’s first king was elected, that likewise sets a precedent for the next. To say that the first electors, by choosing not only a king but a family of kings forever, could strip all future generations of their rights has no parallel in or out of scripture except the doctrine of original sin, which holds that everyone lost free will in Adam. Hereditary succession can gain no glory from that comparison, and no other comparison will do. For just as all sinned in Adam, all obeyed in the first electors; just as all humanity was subjected to Satan in one case, it was subjected to sovereign power in the other; just as innocence was lost in the first, authority was lost in the second. And since both prevent us from recovering an earlier condition and privilege, original sin and hereditary succession are inescapably parallel. What a dishonorable rank! What an inglorious connection! Yet even the most cunning sophist cannot find a fairer likeness.

As for usurpation, no one will dare defend it; and no one can deny that William the Conqueror was a usurper. The plain truth is that the origins of English monarchy cannot bear examination.

But what matters to humanity is not so much the absurdity of hereditary succession as the harm it does. If it guaranteed a line of good and wise people, it would bear the seal of divine authority. But since it opens the door to fools, villains, and the unfit, it has the character of oppression. People who consider themselves born to rule, and others born to obey, soon grow arrogant. Set apart from the rest of humanity, they are poisoned early by a sense of their own importance; and the world in which they live differs so greatly from the world at large that they have little chance to understand its real interests. When they inherit power, they are often the most ignorant and least fit of anyone in their dominions.

Another evil of hereditary succession is that the throne can fall to a child of any age. Throughout such a reign, a regency acting behind the cover of a king has every opportunity and incentive to betray its trust. The nation suffers the same misfortune when a king, worn down by age and infirmity, enters the last stage of human weakness. In either case the public falls prey to any scoundrel who can exploit the frailties of childhood or old age.

The most plausible argument ever offered for hereditary succession is that it saves a nation from civil war. If that were true, it would carry weight; instead, it is the most brazen falsehood ever imposed on humanity. All of English history refutes it. Thirty kings and two minors have reigned in that troubled kingdom since the conquest; during that time, including the Revolution, it has endured no fewer than eight civil wars and nineteen rebellions. Far from making for peace, hereditary succession works against it and destroys the very ground on which it claims to stand.

The struggle for monarchy and succession between the houses of York and Lancaster plunged England into bloodshed for many years. Henry and Edward fought twelve pitched battles, besides skirmishes and sieges. Twice Henry was Edward’s prisoner, and Edward in turn was Henry’s prisoner. So uncertain are the fortunes of war and the temper of a nation when a quarrel turns on personal claims alone that Henry was carried in triumph from prison to palace, while Edward was forced to flee from a palace to a foreign land. Yet sudden changes of feeling seldom last: Henry was driven from the throne in his turn, and Edward was recalled to take his place. Parliament always followed the stronger side.

The struggle began in the reign of Henry the Sixth and was not fully ended until Henry the Seventh, in whom the two families were united. It spanned 67 years, from 1422 to 1489.

In short, monarchy and succession have laid not merely this kingdom or that, but the world, in blood and ashes. The word of God bears witness against this form of government, and bloodshed will follow it.

If we ask what a king’s business is, we shall find that in some countries kings have none. They idle away their lives, giving neither themselves pleasure nor their nations any benefit; then they leave the stage and their successors follow the same empty course. In absolute monarchies, the whole burden of civil and military affairs falls on the king. When the children of Israel asked for a king, they gave this reason: “that he may judge us, and go out before us and fight our battles.” But in countries such as England, where he is neither judge nor general, one is hard pressed to say what his business is.

The closer any government comes to a republic, the less work there is for a king. It is somewhat difficult to find a fitting name for England’s government. Sir William Meredith calls it a republic; but in its present condition it does not deserve the name. Through its corrupting power to appoint people to every office, the crown has so thoroughly swallowed up the power and consumed the virtue of the House of Commons—the republican part of the constitution—that England’s government is nearly as monarchical as those of France or Spain. People quarrel over names they do not understand. What English people take pride in is the republican, not the monarchical, part of their constitution: their freedom to choose a House of Commons from among themselves. And it is plain that when republican virtue fails, servitude follows. Why is England’s constitution so sickly, if not because monarchy has poisoned the republic and the crown has swallowed up the Commons?

In England a king has little to do beyond making war and giving away offices—which, plainly put, means impoverishing the nation and setting its people against one another. A fine occupation indeed for a man to receive eight hundred thousand sterling a year for, and to be worshipped into the bargain! One honest person is worth more to society and in the sight of God than every crowned ruffian who ever lived.

Second, no man could originally hold a public honor unless others gave it to him. Those who gave him that honor had no power to give away their descendants' rights. They might say, “We choose you as our leader.” But they could not justly say, “Your children and grandchildren will rule ours forever.” That would be plainly unfair to their own children. Such a foolish, unjust, and unnatural agreement might leave the next generation under a scoundrel or a fool. In private, most wise people have always looked down on hereditary rule. Yet once this evil is established, it is hard to remove. Some accept it out of fear, others out of superstition, and the most powerful share in the king's plunder of everyone else.

This assumes that the kings now ruling the world came from honorable beginnings. More likely, if we could uncover the distant past and trace their beginnings, we would find that the first king was merely the leading thug in a restless gang. His brutality or unusual cleverness made him chief among the thieves. As he gained power and widened his raids, he frightened peaceful, defenseless people into paying him regularly for their safety. Yet the people who chose him could not have intended to give his descendants a hereditary right to rule. Permanently shutting themselves out would have conflicted with the freedom they claimed for themselves. So in the early days of monarchy, succession within a family could not have been a recognized right. It happened by chance or as a gesture of respect. But few records, if any, existed then, and oral histories were full of fables. After a few generations, it was easy to invent a conveniently timed, superstitious story, as Mahomet did, and force ordinary people to accept hereditary rule. Perhaps the disorder that threatened, or seemed to threaten, when a leader died and another had to be chosen led many people to favor hereditary claims at first. Elections among thugs could hardly be orderly. Thus, as has happened since, people first accepted a practice for convenience, and later someone claimed it as a right.

England has had a few good monarchs since the conquest, but far more bad ones. No reasonable person can say that their claim through William the Conqueror has honorable origins. A Frenchman born out of wedlock landed with an armed gang and made himself king of England against its people's wishes. Put plainly, that is a shabby, disgraceful beginning. There is certainly nothing divine about it. But there is no need to spend much time exposing the foolishness of hereditary rule. If anyone is weak enough to believe in it, they are welcome to worship both the donkey and the lion without distinction. I will neither imitate their submissiveness nor interfere with their worship.

Still, I would like to ask how they think kings first came to power. There are only three possible answers: by chance selection, by election, or by taking power unlawfully. If the first king was chosen by chance, that sets an example for choosing the next one and rules out hereditary succession. Saul was chosen by chance, yet the throne did not pass down through his family. Nor does that event show any intention that it ever should. If a country's first king was elected, that too sets an example for choosing the next one. To say that the first voters could choose not just one king but a family of kings forever, and thereby take away the rights of every later generation, has no parallel in scripture or elsewhere except the doctrine of original sin. That doctrine says that all people lost their free will through Adam. This is the only possible comparison, and it does nothing to glorify hereditary succession. Through Adam, everyone sinned; through the first voters, everyone was made to obey. In one case all humanity was put under Satan, and in the other, under royal rule. In the first we lost our innocence; in the second, our authority. Both prevent us from regaining a former condition and right. So original sin and hereditary succession are unmistakably alike. What a disgraceful standing! What a shameful connection! Even the cleverest defender of a false argument could not find a fairer comparison.

As for seizing the throne unlawfully, no one will dare defend that. And no one can deny that William the Conqueror seized it unlawfully. The plain truth is that the early history of the English monarchy cannot stand close examination.

But what matters to humanity is not so much how absurd hereditary succession is as how much harm it does. If it guaranteed a line of good, wise rulers, it would bear the mark of divine approval. Instead, it lets foolish, wicked, and unfit people take power, so it is a form of oppression. Men who think they were born to rule and others were born to obey soon become arrogant. Set apart from everyone else, they grow up with an inflated sense of their own importance. Their world differs so greatly from the wider world that they have little chance to learn what truly serves its interests. When they take power, they are often the least informed and least fit people anywhere in their domains.

Hereditary succession brings another evil: a child of any age can take the throne. Throughout that child's reign, the people ruling in the king's name have every chance and incentive to betray the trust placed in them. The nation suffers the same misfortune when an old and infirm king reaches the final stage of human weakness. In either case the public falls prey to any scoundrel who can exploit the foolishness of childhood or old age.

The strongest argument ever offered for hereditary succession is that it keeps a nation from civil war. If that were true, it would matter a great deal. But it is the most blatant lie ever forced on humanity. All of English history contradicts it. Since the conquest, thirty kings and two children have ruled that troubled kingdom. During that time there have been no fewer than eight civil wars, including the Revolution, and nineteen rebellions. So hereditary succession does not bring peace. It works against peace and destroys the very basis on which its defenders claim it rests.

The dispute over the crown and its succession between the houses of York and Lancaster left England soaked in blood for many years. Henry and Edward fought twelve full battles, as well as skirmishes and sieges. Edward twice held Henry prisoner; Henry in turn held Edward prisoner. When a dispute concerns only the claims of particular people, the course of war and the people's loyalties are so uncertain that Henry could be carried in triumph from prison to a palace while Edward had to flee his palace for another country. But sudden shifts in public feeling rarely last. Henry was driven from the throne in turn, and Edward was called back to replace him. Parliament always sided with whoever was strongest.

This struggle began under Henry the Sixth and did not end completely until Henry the Seventh, who united the two families. It lasted 67 years, from 1422 to 1489.

In short, monarchy and hereditary succession have brought bloodshed and ruin not just to one kingdom or another, but to the whole world. God's word speaks against this form of government, and bloodshed will follow it.

If we ask what a king does, we find that in some countries he does nothing. He wastes his life, giving neither himself pleasure nor the nation any benefit. Then he leaves the scene, and his successor repeats the same idle routine. Under an absolute monarchy, all civil and military responsibilities fall on the king. When the children of Israel asked for a king, they gave this reason: “He may judge us, and go out before us and fight our battles.” But in countries like England, where the king is neither a judge nor a general, it is hard to say what his job is.

The closer a government comes to being a republic, the less work there is for a king. It is somewhat hard to give England's government the right name. Sir William Meredith calls it a republic. But as it stands, it does not deserve that name. The crown controls all the government posts, and its corrupt influence has so thoroughly consumed the power and integrity of the House of Commons—the republican part of the constitution—that England's government is nearly as monarchical as those of France or Spain. People argue over names without understanding them. English people take pride in the republican part of their constitution, not the monarchical part: their freedom to choose members of the House of Commons from among themselves. It is easy to see that when republican integrity fails, slavery follows. Why is England's constitution so unhealthy? Because monarchy has poisoned the republic, and the crown has taken over the Commons.

In England a king does little besides start wars and hand out government jobs. Put plainly, he makes the nation poorer and sets its people against each other. What a fine job to pay a man eight hundred thousand sterling a year for, while worshipping him as well! One honest man is worth more to society and in God's eyes than all the crowned thugs who ever lived.