Review and Conclusion, 1

A REVIEW AND CONCLUSION

The apparent opposition between certain natural faculties of the mind, and between certain passions, together with their bearing on social life, has been used to argue that no one person can be suitably disposed to every kind of civil duty. Severity of judgment, they say, makes people censorious and reluctant to pardon others’ errors and weaknesses; quickness of imagination, by contrast, makes thought less steady than exact discrimination between right and wrong requires. Again, sound reasoning is necessary in every deliberation and every legal pleading: without it, people’s decisions are rash and their judgments unjust. Yet without powerful eloquence that wins attention and assent, reason has little effect. But these faculties are opposed: the former is grounded in principles of truth, the latter in opinions already accepted, whether true or false, and in people’s differing, changeable passions and interests.

Among the passions, courage—by which I mean contempt for wounds and violent death—inclines people to private revenge and sometimes to attempts to unsettle the public peace. Fearfulness, on the other hand, often inclines them to desert the public defense. These two, they say, cannot coexist in one person.

And considering the opposition between people’s opinions and habits in general, they say it is impossible to sustain a lasting civic friendship with everyone with whom worldly business compels us to deal, for that business consists almost entirely of perpetual competition for honor, wealth, and authority.

My answer is that these are indeed great difficulties, but not impossibilities: education and discipline can, and sometimes do, reconcile them. Judgment and imagination may both have a place in the same person, but take their turns as the end he aims at requires. As the Israelites in Egypt were sometimes bound to the labor of making bricks and at other times ranged about gathering straw, so judgment may at one time fix itself upon a single consideration and imagination at another roam the world. Reason and eloquence too, though perhaps not in the natural sciences, can readily coexist in moral matters. Wherever there is room to embellish and promote error, there is far more room to embellish and promote truth, if one has truth to embellish. Nor is there any conflict between fearing the laws and being unafraid of a public enemy, or between refraining from doing injury and forgiving injury in others. Human nature is therefore not so incompatible with civil duties as some suppose. I have known clarity of judgment and breadth of imagination, strength of reason and graceful eloquence, courage for war and fear of the laws, all eminently united in one man: my most noble and honored friend Mr. Sidney Godolphin. Hating no one and hated by none, he was unhappily killed at the beginning of the recent civil war, in the public cause, by an unseen and unseeing hand.

To the Laws of Nature stated in the 15. Chapter I would add this: “Every person is bound by nature, as far as he is able, to defend in war the authority by which he himself is protected in peace.” For a person who claims a Right of Nature to preserve his own body cannot claim a Right of Nature to destroy the one whose strength preserves him: that is an evident self-contradiction. Though this law may be derived from some of those already mentioned there, the times demand that it be stressed and remembered.

And because I find from various English books recently printed that the civil wars have not yet taught people at what moment a subject becomes bound to a conqueror, what conquest is, or how it binds people to obey the conqueror’s laws, I shall explain further. A person becomes the subject of a conqueror at the moment when, having the freedom to submit to him, he consents, by express words or another adequate sign, to become his subject. I have shown at the end of the 21. Chapter when a person has the freedom to submit. For someone whose only obligation to his former Sovereign is that of an ordinary subject, it is when the means of his livelihood come under the enemy’s guards and garrisons; for then his former Sovereign no longer protects him, and the opposing party protects him in return for his contribution. Since such a contribution is everywhere considered lawful as unavoidable, though it assists the enemy, complete submission, which likewise merely assists the enemy, cannot be considered unlawful. Besides, those who submit assist the enemy with only part of their property, whereas those who refuse assist him with the whole. There is thus no reason to call their submission or negotiated settlement assistance; rather, it is a loss to the enemy. But if someone, besides the obligation of a subject, has undertaken the further obligation of a soldier, he is not free to submit to a new power while the former power still holds the field and provides him the means of subsistence in its armies or garrisons. In that case he cannot complain of a lack of protection and the means of a soldier’s livelihood. But when that too fails, a soldier may seek protection wherever he has the best hope of finding it, and may lawfully submit to a new master. So much for when he may lawfully do so, should he choose. If he does, he is unquestionably bound to be a faithful subject: a contract lawfully made cannot lawfully be broken.

This also lets us understand when people may be said to have been conquered, and what conquest and the conqueror’s right consist in, for that submission encompasses them all. Conquest is not victory itself, but the acquisition through victory of a right over people. A person killed, therefore, is overcome but not conquered. A person captured and put in prison or chains is not conquered, though overcome: he remains an enemy and may save himself if he can. But a person granted life and liberty upon promising obedience is then conquered and a subject, and not before. The Romans used to say their general had pacified a province—that is, in English, conquered it—and that victory had pacified the country when its people promised Imperata Facere, or “to do what the Roman people commanded them”: this was to be conquered. The promise may be express or tacit: express by a spoken promise, tacit by other signs. For example, a person not called upon to make an express promise, perhaps because his power is insignificant, nevertheless implicitly submits to the government if he lives openly under its protection. If he lives there secretly, however, he is liable to whatever may be done to a spy and enemy of the state. I do not say that he commits an injustice—for acts of open hostility are not called that—but that he may justly be put to death. Likewise, someone outside his country when it is conquered has not himself been conquered and is not a subject; but if he submits to the government upon returning, he is bound to obey it. Conquest, then, to define it, is the acquisition of the right of Sovereignty by victory. That right is acquired through the people’s submission, by which they contract with the victor, promising obedience in return for life and liberty.

In the 29th Chapter I set down among the causes of the dissolution of Commonwealths their imperfect formation, consisting in the absence of an absolute and discretionary legislative power. For lack of it, the civil Sovereign must wield the sword of justice uncertainly, as if it were too hot to hold. One reason, which I did not mention there, is that they all seek to justify the war by which they first won their power and on which, they think, their right depends, instead of resting it on possession. Suppose, for example, the right of the kings of England depended on the justice of William the Conqueror’s cause and on their direct descent from him through the straightest line. There might then be no bond obliging subjects to obey their Sovereign anywhere in the world today. In needlessly attempting to justify themselves this way, rulers justify every successful rebellion that ambition may ever raise against them and their successors. I therefore count it among the most effective seeds of a state’s death when conquerors demand not only that people submit to their actions henceforth, but also that they approve all their past actions, when scarcely a Commonwealth in the world can conscientiously justify its beginnings.

And since the name tyranny means neither more nor less than the name Sovereignty, whether held by one person or many, except that those who use the former name are understood to be angry with those they call tyrants, I think tolerating an avowed hatred of tyranny is tolerating hatred of Commonwealth in general: another evil seed, little different from the previous one. To justify a conqueror’s cause one must generally reproach the cause of the conquered; yet neither is necessary to bind the conquered. This is what I thought fit to say in reviewing the first and second parts of this discourse.

In the 35th Chapter I have shown sufficiently from Scripture that, in the Commonwealth of the Jews, God himself was made Sovereign by covenant with the people. They were therefore called his special people, to distinguish them from the rest of the world, over whom God reigned not by their consent but by his own power. I showed too that in this Kingdom Moses was God’s lieutenant on earth and that it was he who told them what laws God had ordained. I did not then consider who was to carry out executions, especially capital punishments, a matter of such importance as I have since discovered. We know that in Commonwealths generally, the execution of bodily punishments was assigned either to guards or other soldiers of the Sovereign power, or to people whose poverty, disregard for honor, and hardness of heart combined to make them seek such an office. Among the Israelites, however, it was a positive law of God their Sovereign that a person convicted of a capital crime be stoned to death by the people: the witnesses were to cast the first stone, and the rest of the people after them. This law designated the executioners, but did not authorize anyone to throw a stone before conviction and sentence where the congregation was judge. The witnesses still had to be heard before the execution, unless the deed occurred in the congregation’s presence or in sight of lawful judges; in those cases the judges themselves were sufficient witnesses. Yet this procedure, not being fully understood, has given rise to the dangerous opinion that a person may in certain cases kill another by a right of zeal, as though executions of offenders in the Kingdom of God of old proceeded not from a Sovereign command but from the authority of private zeal. A consideration of the texts that seem to favor this opinion shows precisely the opposite.

A REVIEW AND CONCLUSION

Some of the mind's natural abilities conflict with each other, as do some Passions. Looking at how they affect social life, some people argue that no single person can be suited to every kind of civil duty. They say that strict judgment makes people critical and unwilling to forgive other people's mistakes and weaknesses. Meanwhile, a quick imagination makes thought too unsteady to distinguish right from wrong accurately. Also, sound reasoning is necessary in every deliberation and legal argument. Without it, people make rash decisions and give unjust judgments. Yet reasoning has little effect without powerful eloquence that wins attention and agreement. These abilities seem to conflict. Reasoning is based on principles of truth. Eloquence relies on accepted opinions, whether true or false, and on people's shifting and varied Passions and interests.

Among the Passions, courage—by which I mean disregard for wounds and violent death—makes people inclined to seek private revenge and sometimes to disturb public peace. Fearfulness, on the other hand, often leads people to abandon the public defense. Some say that the same person cannot have both qualities.

Considering people's differing opinions and habits more generally, they also say it is impossible to remain consistently friendly in civil life with everyone we must deal with. Almost all of the world's business consists of endless competition for honor, wealth, and authority.

My answer is that these are serious difficulties, but they are not impossibilities. Education and training can reconcile them, and sometimes do. Judgment and imagination can both have a place in one person, taking turns as the person's goal requires. The Israelites in Egypt were sometimes tied to the work of making bricks and at other times traveled around gathering straw. In the same way, judgment can sometimes concentrate on a particular issue while imagination roams the world at another time. Reason and eloquence can also work well together, perhaps not in the natural sciences but certainly in moral questions. Wherever people can make error look attractive and recommend it, they have still more opportunity to make truth attractive and recommend it, if they have the truth. Nor is fearing the laws incompatible with not fearing a public enemy, or refraining from harming others incompatible with forgiving harm done by them. Human nature, therefore, is not as inconsistent with civil duties as some believe. I knew one man who had clear judgment and a broad imagination, strong reasoning and graceful speech, courage in war and fear of the laws, all to an exceptional degree. He was my noble and honored friend Mr. Sidney Godolphin. He hated no one, and no one hated him. Sadly, he was killed early in the recent civil war while fighting for the public cause, by a hand that neither recognized him nor understood what it was doing.

I would add the following to the Laws of Nature stated in the 15. Chapter: “Each person is bound by nature, as far as they can, to defend in war the authority that protects them in peacetime.” Anyone claiming a Right of Nature to preserve their own body cannot also claim a Right of Nature to destroy the person whose strength preserves them. That would plainly contradict their own claim. This law can be inferred from some of those already listed, but the times require us to emphasize and remember it.

Several recently published English books show me that the civil wars have not yet taught people exactly when a subject becomes bound to a conqueror, what conquest is, or why it obliges people to obey a conqueror's laws. To make these matters clearer, I say that a person becomes the subject of a conqueror at the moment when, being free to submit, that person consents to be a subject, either in express words or by another adequate sign. At the end of the 21. Chapter I explained when someone is free to submit. A person with no special obligation to the former Soveraigne beyond that of an ordinary subject may submit when the necessities of their life are within the enemy's guarded territory and garrisons. At that point the former Soveraigne no longer protects them; the opposing side protects them in exchange for what they pay toward its support. Such payment is everywhere considered lawful because it is unavoidable, even though it helps the enemy. Complete submission, which is only another kind of help to the enemy, cannot therefore be considered unlawful. Besides, those who submit help the enemy with only part of their property, while those who refuse help the enemy with all of it. So submission or an agreed settlement should not be called help to the enemy but rather a loss for the enemy. If, however, someone has taken on the further obligation of a soldier, that person cannot submit to a new power while the old one still holds the field and provides the means to live, either in its armies or in its garrisons. In that case the soldier cannot say they lack protection or the means to live as a soldier. But when that support also fails, soldiers too may seek protection wherever they are most likely to find it and may lawfully submit to a new master. That is when they may lawfully do so if they choose. Once they do, they are unquestionably bound to be loyal subjects. A lawfully made contract cannot lawfully be broken.

This also tells us when people may be said to have been conquered, and what conquest and the right of a conqueror mean. Submission includes all of these things. Conquest is not victory itself. It is the acquisition, through victory, of a right over people. Someone killed is defeated but not conquered. Someone captured and put in prison or chains is also defeated but not conquered, because that person remains an enemy and may escape if able. But someone who promises obedience and is allowed to keep their life and liberty is then conquered and becomes a subject, not before. The Romans used to say their general had pacified a province, meaning in English that he had conquered it. They said victory had pacified a country when its people had promised Imperata Facere, meaning “to do what the Roman people commanded them.” That was conquest. A promise may be spoken outright or implied: spoken outright in a direct promise, implied by other signs. For instance, a person may not have been asked for an explicit promise, perhaps because that person's power is insignificant. But if the person openly lives under the conquerors' protection, they are understood to submit to the government. If they live there secretly, however, they may be treated as a spy and enemy of the state. I am not saying that they commit an injustice, since acts of open hostility are not called that. I am saying that they may justly be put to death. Similarly, if someone is outside their country when it is conquered, that person is neither conquered nor a subject. But if they return and submit to the government, they must obey it. To define conquest, then: it is acquiring the Right of Soveraignty through victory. The right is acquired when people submit and contract with the victor, promising obedience in exchange for life and liberty.

In the 29th Chapter I named defective formation as one cause of the collapse of Common-wealths. The defect is the absence of an absolute lawmaking power free to decide as it sees fit. Without it, the civil Soveraigne has to wield the sword of justice inconsistently, as though it were too hot to hold. I left out one reason for this. Rulers all want to justify the war through which they first gained power. They think their right rests on that war rather than on holding power. For instance, if English kings had a right to rule only because William the Conqueror had fought for a good cause and they were his most direct descendants, perhaps no subject anywhere in the world today would be bound to obey a Soveraigne. In their needless attempt to justify themselves, such rulers justify every successful rebellion that ambition may raise against them or their successors. So I count this among the most effective seeds of a state's destruction: conquerors demand not only that people obey them in future actions but also that people approve everything the conquerors did in the past, although scarcely any Common-wealth in the world began in a way that can be conscientiously justified.

The word “tyranny” means exactly what “sovereignty” means, whether one person or several hold power. The only difference is that people who say “tyranny” are understood to be angry with those they call tyrants. I therefore think that allowing people openly to hate tyranny is allowing them to hate the Common-wealth in general. It is another harmful seed, much like the one just described. To justify a conqueror's cause, people generally have to criticize the conquered side's cause. Yet neither judgment is needed to make the conquered obey. This is all I wish to say in reviewing the first and second parts of this work.

In the 35th Chapter, I showed at length from Scripture that, in the Jewish Common-wealth, God himself was made the Soveraigne by a pact with the people. They were therefore called his special people, to distinguish them from the rest of the world. Over the rest God ruled by his own power, not by their consent. In God's Kingdome Moses was his deputy on earth, and Moses told the people which laws God had appointed to be enforced. I did not then think it necessary to consider who carried out those laws, especially the death penalties, as carefully as I now do. We know that in Common-wealths generally, bodily punishments were carried out either by guards or other soldiers serving the sovereign power, or by people whose poverty, lack of concern for honor, and hardness of heart combined to make them seek the work. But among the Israelites, a specific law of God their Soveraigne required the people to stone anyone convicted of a capital crime. The witnesses were to cast the first stones, and then the rest of the people. The law specified who would carry out the sentence. It did not permit anyone to throw a stone before conviction and sentencing by the congregation acting as judge. The witnesses still had to be heard before execution, unless the act was committed in the congregation's presence or before lawful judges. In that case the judges themselves were sufficient witnesses. This procedure has not been fully understood, leading to the dangerous belief that someone may sometimes kill another person by a personal right based on religious zeal. It is as if executions of offenders in the ancient Kingdome of God rested on private zeal rather than the Soveraigne's command. Yet a close look at the texts that seem to support this belief shows the opposite.