Part I, Chapter XI

OF THE DIFFERENCE OF MANNERS

By manners I do not mean here the decencies of behavior—how one person should greet another, or wash one's mouth or pick one's teeth before company, and other such points of minor morality—but those qualities of humankind that bear on living together in peace and unity. To this end we must recognize that happiness in this life does not consist in the repose of a satisfied mind. There is no such finis ultimus, or ultimate aim, nor any summum bonum, or greatest good, of the kind discussed in the books of the old moral philosophers. A person whose desires have ended can no more live than one whose senses and imagination have stopped. Happiness is a continual progress of desire from one object to another, the attainment of the first being always only the path to the next. The reason is that the object of human desire is not merely to enjoy something once, for an instant, but to secure forever the way to satisfy future desire. And so the voluntary actions and inclinations of everyone tend not only to obtain a contented life but to secure it; they differ only in their methods. These differences arise partly from the diverse Passions of different people, and partly from the difference in what each knows or believes about the causes that bring about the desired effect.

Thus I place first, as a general inclination of all mankind, a perpetual and restless desire for power after power that ceases only in death. The reason is not always that a person hopes for more intense pleasure than has already been attained, or cannot be content with moderate power. Rather, no one can secure the power and means of living well now possessed without acquiring more. That is why kings, whose power is greatest, strive to secure it at home by laws and abroad by wars. When this is done a new desire succeeds it: in some, for fame through fresh conquest; in others, for ease and sensual pleasure; in others, for admiration or flattery for excellence in some art or other ability of mind.

Competition for riches, honor, command, or other power inclines people toward contention, hostility, and war, because one competitor's way to obtain what he desires is to kill, subdue, supplant, or repel the other. Competition for praise in particular inclines people to revere antiquity. They contend with the living, not the dead; and attribute more than is due to the dead in order to dim the glory of the living.

The desire for ease and sensual delight disposes people to obey a common power, because such desires lead one to abandon the protection that could be hoped for from one's own industry and labor.

Fear of death and wounds has the same effect, and for the same reason. Conversely, needy and hardy people, dissatisfied with their present condition, and all those ambitious for military command, are inclined to perpetuate the causes of war and to stir up trouble and sedition. There is no military honor except through war, nor any comparable hope of improving a bad hand except by arranging a new shuffle.

Desire for knowledge and the arts of peace inclines people to obey a common power, for such desire includes a desire for leisure, and consequently for protection by some power other than their own.

Desire for praise disposes people to praiseworthy actions that please those whose judgment they value; for we also despise the praise of people we despise. Desire for fame after death does the same. And though after death we have no sensation of praise bestowed on us on earth—such joys being either swallowed up by the unspeakable joys of heaven or extinguished in the extreme torments of hell—such fame is not vain. People take pleasure in it now by foreseeing it and the benefit it may bring their descendants; though they cannot see that benefit yet, they imagine it, and whatever gives pleasure to the senses gives pleasure also to the imagination.

To receive from someone we consider our equal greater benefits than we can hope to repay disposes us to counterfeit love while secretly feeling hatred. It puts a person in the position of a desperate debtor who, avoiding his creditor's sight, silently wishes him where he would never see him again. For benefits impose obligations, and obligation is bondage, which is hateful when owed to an equal. But receiving benefits from someone we acknowledge as our superior inclines us to love, because the obligation is no new abasement; and cheerful acceptance, which people call gratitude, honors the benefactor in a way generally taken as repayment. Receiving benefits even from an equal or inferior likewise disposes us to love as long as there is hope of repaying them. In the recipient's intention the obligation is one of mutual aid and service; hence arises a rivalry over who will surpass the other in doing good, the noblest and most fruitful contest possible, in which the victor is pleased with victory and the other gets revenge by acknowledging it.

To have done someone more harm than one can, or is willing to, make amends for inclines the doer to hate the sufferer. For the doer must expect either revenge or forgiveness, both of which are hateful.

Fear of oppression disposes a person to strike first or to seek help through association, for there is no other way to secure one's life and liberty.

In tumult and sedition, those who distrust their own cunning are better placed to win than those who think themselves wise or crafty. The latter like to deliberate; the former, fearing they will be outwitted, strike first. And in sedition, when people are always poised for battle, holding together and using every advantage of force is a better stratagem than any subtlety of wit can devise.

Vainglorious people who, without being aware of any great ability in themselves, delight in imagining themselves valiant are inclined only to show off, not to act. For when danger or difficulty appears, they expect nothing but exposure of their inadequacy.

Vainglorious people who measure their ability by others' flattery or the good fortune of some earlier action, without sound grounds for hope in true self-knowledge, are inclined to commit themselves rashly and, when danger or difficulty draws near, to withdraw if they can. Since they see no path to safety, they prefer to risk their honor, which an excuse may repair, rather than their lives, for which no remedy suffices.

People with a strong opinion of their own wisdom in government are disposed to ambition, because without public employment as counselors or magistrates the honor of their wisdom is lost. Eloquent speakers are therefore inclined to ambition, for eloquence appears to be wisdom both to themselves and to others.

Pusillanimity disposes people to irresolution and thus to miss occasions and the best opportunities for action. For if they have deliberated until the time for action approaches and it is still not clear what is best, that is a sign that the motives on either side differ little. Not to decide then is to lose the occasion by weighing trifles; that is pusillanimity.

Frugality, though a virtue in poor people, makes a person ill-suited to accomplish deeds that require the strength of many people at once. For it weakens their effort, which must be nourished and kept vigorous by reward.

Confidence in Others from Ignorance of the Signs of Wisdom and Kindness. Eloquence coupled with flattery disposes people to trust those who possess them, because the former appears to be wisdom, the latter kindness. Add a military reputation, and people are disposed to attach and subject themselves to such men. The first two give assurance against danger from the men themselves; the last gives assurance against danger from others.

Lack of knowledge, that is, ignorance of causes, disposes—or rather compels—a person to rely on the advice and authority of others. For everyone concerned with the truth must rely, if not on their own opinion, on that of someone else whom they think wiser than themselves and see no reason to suspect of deception.

Ignorance of what words mean—that is, lack of understanding—disposes people to take on trust not only truths they do not know, but also the errors and, what is more, the nonsense of those they trust. Neither error nor nonsense can be detected without a thorough understanding of words.

From this same ignorance it follows that people give different names to one and the same thing according to their different Passions. Those who approve of a private opinion call it an opinion; those who dislike it call it heresy. Yet heresy means nothing more than private opinion, only colored by greater anger.

It also follows from this that, without study and deep understanding, people cannot distinguish one action performed by many people from many actions performed by a multitude: for example, the single action of all the senators of Rome in killing Catiline from the many actions of a number of senators in killing Caesar. They are therefore disposed to call an action of the people what is in fact a multitude of actions performed by a multitude of people, perhaps led by the persuasion of one person.

Adherence to Custom from Ignorance of the Nature of Right and Wrong. Ignorance of the causes and original establishment of right, equity, law, and justice disposes a person to take custom and example as the rule of conduct: to think unjust whatever it has been customary to punish, and just whatever one can cite an example of being left unpunished and approved—or, as lawyers who use only this false measure of justice crudely call it, a precedent. Such people are like little children, whose only rule of good and bad behavior is correction by parents and teachers, except that children hold steady to their rule, while adults do not. Having grown strong and stubborn, they appeal from custom to reason and from reason to custom as suits their purposes; they abandon custom when their interest requires it and oppose reason whenever reason opposes them. This is why right and wrong are perpetually disputed with both pen and sword, while lines and figures are not: in geometry people do not care what the truth is, because it thwarts no one's ambition, profit, or desire. For I do not doubt that, if the proposition that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two angles of a square had conflicted with anyone's right of dominion or the interests of those who hold dominion, that doctrine would, if not disputed, have been suppressed by burning every book of geometry, as far as the person concerned was able.

Adherence to Private Men from Ignorance of the Causes of Peace. Ignorance of remote causes disposes people to attribute every event to its immediate, instrumental causes, for these are all they perceive. Thus everywhere people aggrieved by payments to the public vent their anger on the tax gatherers—that is, the farmers, collectors, and other officers of public revenue—and attach themselves to critics of the public government. Then, once committed beyond hope of justifying themselves, they turn against the Supreme Authority as well, for fear of punishment or shame at receiving a pardon.

Ignorance of natural causes disposes a person to credulity and often to believe impossibilities: having no knowledge to the contrary, such people cannot see why these things might not be true, since they cannot detect their impossibility. And credulity, because people like to be listened to in company, disposes them to lie. Thus ignorance alone, without malice, can make a person both believe lies and tell them, and sometimes invent them too.

Anxiety about the future disposes people to inquire into the causes of things, because knowing those causes enables them to arrange the present to their best advantage.

Curiosity, or love of knowing causes, draws a person from considering an effect to seek its cause, and then the cause of that cause, until at last one must come to the thought that there is some cause with no prior cause, which exists eternally: what people call God. Thus it is impossible to inquire deeply into natural causes without being inclined thereby to believe in one eternal God, though they can have no idea of him in their minds corresponding to his nature. A person born blind, hearing others speak of warming themselves at a fire and being brought to warm himself there too, can readily grasp and be certain that something called fire is present and causes the heat he feels, yet cannot imagine what it looks like or form an idea of it such as sighted people have. In the same way, from the visible things of this world and their marvelous order a person may conceive that they have a cause called God, without having an idea or image of him in the mind.

And those who make little or no inquiry into the natural causes of things are nevertheless moved by the fear arising from their very ignorance of what has the power to do them great good or harm. They are inclined to suppose and invent various kinds of invisible powers, to stand in awe of their own imaginings, to call upon them in distress, and to thank them when expecting success: thus making the creatures of their own fancy their gods. In this way, from the countless varieties of imagination, people have created countless kinds of gods in the world. This fear of invisible things is the natural seed of what each person calls religion in themselves and superstition in those who worship or fear that power differently.

And because many have observed this seed of religion, some of those observers have been inclined to nurture, tend, and shape it into laws, and to add whatever opinions of the causes of future events they devised that they thought would best enable them to govern others and turn those powers to their greatest advantage.

CHAPTER XII. OF RELIGION

ON THE DIFFERENCE OF MANNERS

By manners I do not mean etiquette, such as how one person should greet another or how a person should clean their mouth or pick their teeth in company. Those are minor rules of behavior. I mean the human qualities that affect our ability to live together in peace and unity. To understand these, we must consider that happiness in this life does not consist in a satisfied mind at rest. There is no final goal, or greatest good, of the sort described in the books of the old moral philosophers. A person whose desires have ended can no more go on living than someone whose senses and imagination have stopped. Happiness is a continual movement of desire from one thing to another. Getting one thing only opens the way to the next. The reason is that people do not merely want to enjoy something once, for a moment. They want to secure a lasting way to satisfy their future desires. That is why everyone's voluntary actions and inclinations aim not only to obtain a satisfying life but to make it secure. People differ only in how they pursue it. This difference comes partly from the variety of their passions, and partly from their different knowledge or beliefs about what causes the results they want.

First, then, I propose that all human beings have a general tendency: a constant and restless desire for more and more power, which ends only in death. This is not always because someone hopes for more intense pleasure than they already have, or cannot be content with a moderate amount of power. It is because people cannot secure the power and means they now have for living well without gaining more. Thus kings, who have the most power, try to secure it at home through laws and abroad through wars. Once they have done so, new desires follow. Some desire fame through new conquests, some want leisure and bodily pleasure, and others want admiration or flattery for excellence in an art or some other mental ability.

Competition for wealth, honor, command, or any other power leads to conflict, hostility, and war. One competitor can get what they want by killing, subduing, displacing, or repelling the other. Competition for praise in particular encourages respect for the distant past. People compete with the living, not the dead, so they give the dead more credit than they deserve in order to dim the glory of the living.

The desire for ease and bodily pleasure inclines people to obey a common power. A person pursuing these pleasures gives up the protection that their own effort and labor might provide.

Fear of death and injury has the same effect for the same reason. By contrast, needy and hardy people who are unhappy with their present condition tend to keep the causes of war alive and stir up trouble and rebellion. So do people who seek military command. There can be no military honor without war. And the best hope of improving a bad hand is to get the cards shuffled again.

The desire for knowledge and the arts of peace inclines people to obey a common power. It includes a desire for leisure and, therefore, for protection by a power other than their own.

The desire for praise encourages commendable actions, meaning actions that please those whose judgment one values. We also dismiss praise from people we look down on. Wanting fame after death has the same effect. After death we cannot sense the praise people give us on earth. Its pleasures are either overwhelmed by heaven's indescribable joys or wiped out by hell's extreme torments. Yet posthumous fame is not pointless. People take pleasure now in imagining it and the benefit it may bring to their descendants. Although they cannot yet see those benefits, they can imagine them. Whatever gives pleasure when sensed can also give pleasure when imagined.

When someone we consider our equal gives us greater benefits than we can hope to repay, we tend to pretend to love them while secretly hating them. We are like a desperate debtor who avoids seeing a creditor and silently wishes the creditor somewhere they will never meet again. Benefits create obligations, and being under an obligation to an equal feels like bondage and inspires hatred. But receiving benefits from someone we recognize as our superior inclines us to love them, because the obligation does not newly lower our position. Gladly accepting such benefits, which people call gratitude, honors the giver and is generally accepted as repayment. Receiving benefits from an equal or an inferior also encourages love as long as repayment remains possible. The receiver then intends the obligation to involve mutual aid and service. Each tries to outdo the other in giving benefits. No competition is more noble or useful: the winner enjoys winning, and the other gets even by acknowledging the win.

When someone has harmed another person more than they can or are willing to make up for, they tend to hate the person they harmed. They must expect either revenge or forgiveness, and both are hateful to them.

Fear of oppression makes a person act first or seek help through an alliance. There is no other way to secure one's life and freedom.

During riots and rebellions, people who distrust their own cleverness are more likely to win than those who think themselves wise or crafty. The latter want to discuss what to do. The former fear being outmaneuvered and strike first. In a rebellion, people are always on the verge of battle. Staying together and using every advantage of force is a better strategy than anything cleverness can devise.

Some vain people enjoy imagining themselves brave, though they know they have no great ability. They are inclined to show off but not to make an attempt. When danger or difficulty appears, they expect only to have their inadequacy exposed.

Other vain people judge their ability by others' flattery or by the luck of some past action. They lack a firm basis for hope grounded in real self-knowledge. They tend to take reckless risks and then withdraw, if they can, when danger or difficulty draws near. Unable to see a safe way forward, they would rather risk their honor, which an excuse might repair, than their lives, for which there is no remedy.

People who think very highly of their wisdom in government tend to be ambitious. Without a public role as counselors or magistrates, their wisdom gains them no honor. Eloquent speakers therefore tend to be ambitious, since eloquence seems like wisdom both to them and to others.

Smallness of spirit makes people indecisive, causing them to miss the right occasions and best opportunities to act. Suppose they have deliberated until the time for action is near, but it is still not clear which course is best. This means the reasons for choosing either course are not very different in weight. Failing to decide at that point means losing the opportunity by weighing trifles. That is smallness of spirit.

Frugality is a virtue in poor people, but it leaves someone ill-equipped to accomplish things requiring the combined strength of many people. It weakens their efforts, which need rewards to sustain and energize them.

Trusting others because one does not know the signs of wisdom and kindness: Eloquence and flattery incline people to trust those who possess them. Eloquence seems like wisdom, and flattery seems like kindness. Add a military reputation, and people are inclined to follow and submit to those who have all three. The first two make people feel safe from the person they follow; the last makes them feel safe from others.

Lack of scientific knowledge, meaning ignorance of causes, inclines people—or rather forces them—to depend on other people's advice and authority. Everyone concerned with the truth must rely either on their own opinion or on that of someone they regard as wiser, whom they see no reason to suspect of deception.

Ignorance of what words mean—that is, a lack of understanding—makes people accept on trust not only truths they do not know, but also the errors and, worse, the nonsense of people they trust. Without a thorough understanding of words, they cannot detect either error or nonsense.

That same ignorance leads people to give different names to the same thing according to their passions. Those who approve of an individual's belief call it an opinion, while those who dislike it call it heresy. Yet heresy means nothing more than an individual's belief, though the word has a stronger tone of anger.

That same ignorance also prevents people, without careful study and considerable understanding, from distinguishing between a single act of many people and many separate acts by people in a crowd. Consider the difference between the single act of all the senators of Rome in killing Catiline and the separate acts of a number of senators in killing Caesar. People are therefore inclined to call something an act of the people when it is actually a collection of acts by many people, perhaps persuaded by just one person.

Following custom because one does not understand right and wrong: Ignorance of the causes and original basis of right, fairness, law, and justice makes people use custom and example as rules for their actions. They think an act unjust if it has customarily been punished. They think an act just if they can point to an example of it going unpunished and being approved—or to a precedent, as lawyers who use only this faulty measure of justice barbarously call it. They resemble small children, whose only rule for good and bad behavior is whether their parents and teachers punish them. But children stick to their rule, while adults do not. Once grown strong and stubborn, adults appeal from custom to reason and from reason to custom whenever it suits them. They reject custom when their interests demand it and oppose reason whenever reason opposes them. This is why right and wrong are constantly debated with both pen and sword, while lines and figures are not. People do not care which claims about geometry are true, because the subject does not threaten anyone's ambition, profit, or desire. But I have no doubt that, if the claim that the three angles of a triangle equal two angles of a square had conflicted with any person's right to rule or the interests of rulers, it would have been disputed. Or, if not disputed, it would have been suppressed by burning every geometry book, so far as the person concerned had the power to do so.

Following private individuals because one does not know the causes of peace: Ignorance of distant causes inclines people to attribute every event to its immediate, instrumental causes. These are the only causes they notice. So people everywhere who resent payments to the public direct their anger at tax officials: the contractors, collectors, and other public revenue officers. They side with critics of the government. Once they have committed themselves too far to justify their actions, they attack the supreme authority too, fearing punishment or the shame of accepting a pardon.

Ignorance of natural causes makes people gullible, and often leads them to believe impossible things. They know nothing that rules out the things they hear and cannot recognize their impossibility. Gullibility in turn leads to lying, because people like to be listened to in company. Thus ignorance alone, without malice, can make someone believe lies, tell them, and sometimes even invent them.

Anxiety about the future leads people to investigate the causes of things. Knowing the causes helps them arrange present matters to their best advantage.

Curiosity, or the love of knowing causes, leads a person from considering an effect to searching for its cause, and then for the cause of that cause. Eventually they must conclude that there is a cause with no earlier cause, which has existed eternally. People call this cause God. So no one can investigate natural causes deeply without being led toward belief in one eternal God, though they cannot form a mental picture of him that matches his nature. Imagine someone born blind who hears people speak of warming themselves by a fire and is brought close enough to warm themselves. They can easily understand and be sure that something called fire is there, causing the heat they feel. But they cannot picture what it looks like or have the mental image of it that sighted people have. Likewise, seeing the things of this world and their remarkable order, one can understand that they have a cause called God without having a picture or image of him in one's mind.

Other people investigate natural causes little or not at all. They do not know what has the power to do them great good or harm, and that ignorance itself makes them afraid. They are therefore inclined to imagine various kinds of invisible powers and to fear what they themselves have imagined. They call on these powers when in distress and thank them when they expect success, making gods of the creations of their own imagination. Because imaginations vary without limit, people have created countless kinds of gods in the world. Fear of invisible things is the natural seed of what each person calls religion in themselves, but calls superstition in those who worship or fear that power differently.

Many people have noticed this seed of religion. Some who noticed it were inclined to nurture it, shape it, and turn it into laws. They added their own invented explanations of what causes future events, choosing those they thought would best enable them to govern others and make the greatest use of their powers.

CHAPTER XII. ON RELIGION